Learning to Live Again
by WindStar
Summary: In the days following Shannon and Kelly's deaths, Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs was angry, hurting, and violent. He didn't want to talk to anyone, deal with anyone, or do anything. He just wanted to be left alone. To bad that wasn't happening.
1. Chapter 1

**Windstar: **Okay, so this is my first time writing a NCIS fanfiction. This story is completed, and it's just a matter of posting it all on the site. I'll probably post every other day or so. It's not as long as some of my other fan fictions, but it kind of set the tone for itself.

As a warning - it's not a feel good, family friendly story. Also, due to the content matter it may seem that Gibbs is a bit OOC. However, considering that this takes place directly after Shannon and Kelly died - I don't think that that's the case at all. This can be considered an AU, but it might not be depending on how you look at it and how deeply you want to interpret it.

Please let me know how you feel and any suggestions that you may have to improve the story on a whole.

**Disclaimer: **This, and all chapters following it, is a nonprofit work. The characters herein are the responsibilities and property of CBS and their affiliates. The content herein does not represents the feelings, emotions, or beliefs of CBS or it's partner corporations.

**Chapter: The Waking**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs woke up to a hangover that burned into his mind and tipped his stomach on its side. He groaned as an unpleasant feeling of nausea started to push him from where he lay in his bed towards the toilet that was in the conjoined bathroom twelve feet away. Grimacing, he moved wobbly legs out over the edge of the bed, and started to apply pressure on his feet.

The war injury burned on his side and his leg threatened to collapse under him. He swore and fumbled awkwardly for the cane that the doctor insisted that he needed until he healed up completely. His fuzzy mind tried to tell him that there was something he was supposed to remember about this routine – it'd been happening almost every night since he'd returned from Iraq. Almost every night since he'd heard the news.

He woke up feeling nauseous, fumbled for his cane…and then…

Footsteps. He could just hear them now, and he groaned. He wasn't in the mood for this. He hadn't been since that first night either. He was certain this was some kind of punishment from God. Broken bodied, with a dead family, and an empty home; this was almost insult to injury.

The door to his room opened and the lanky teenager gave him the same appraising look that he always gave him whenever he found him in such a state. "Want a bucket?" Same question too. He resisted the urge to flip the kid off, but there was nothing that kept him from telling the boy to get lost. He was ignored, the same as he always was, and was quietly grateful for that fact at times.

The boy moved towards him, helped him get on his feet properly, and then steadied him as they made a quick trip to the bathroom. It was undignified, but he didn't seem to care at the moment. Vomit left his mouth and he continue to be sick for quite some time before he started dry heaving.

He looked up to see a glass of water being passed to him, and he accepted it and drank it down slowly. "Want a beer?" He rolled his eyes at that. "Works with me." The kid shrugged.

"You're too young to have a hang over." The kid scoffed at his gruff reprimand and didn't look particularly inclined to say anything in retribution.

"Doesn't mean I haven't had one. You want one?" He shrugged slightly and the kid turned and started to walk off.

"Why are you still sticking around here?" He had asked the same question every night, and each night the kid had given a different answer. Right now, the boy turned and glanced back at him with a look that screamed of insubordination and a lack of true caring.

"Maybe I'll tell you once you get sober." It was the best he was going to get, and he waited patiently for the boy to come back with the beer. It was an old hangover recipe. One more beer usually took the edge off – any more then that and you were liable to get it ten times worse, but one was all right.

The kid reappeared and handed him the drink before sitting on the side of the tub and looking at him with that mildly appraising look. The kid never seemed to be making any judgments good or bad about him, he just seemed to take everything in stride. It was disconcerting to say the least.

"Why do you stick around?" Gibbs asked again as he popped the cap and took a sip. The kid had been a self-proclaimed resident of the house almost since the exact moment he'd walked through the door the first night. He hadn't complained about the teen's presence truly, but it had been odd suddenly having the houseguest. He always asked that particular question, but the boy had yet to give him a straight answer.

"I told you I'd tell you when you got sober." The boy told him blandly. The marine just rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.

As they sat together in silence, Gibbs looked the kid over. It was obvious that he was younger then he made himself appear. He may claim that he was twenty-one on some of his ids, but that didn't mean that he actually was. In fact, he looked closer to sixteen or seventeen. So he asked him, after all – they never actually spoke about anything and they'd been together now for a few days.

"Nineteen." He affirmed after a moment. He grinned slightly. "You gonna tell on me?" He motioned to the bottle.

"Not my problem." Gibbs told him with a slight shake of the head. "You're not my kid." There was something there, a dark look and a narrowing of the eyes. It was gone before he had a chance to identify it, but the boy just shrugged and nodded and didn't seem concerned with the proclamation.

"Where'd you stay before you decided to move in here?" He was being sarcastic, and the boy adopted a perfectly innocent look on his face at that.

"Move in? I'm just hanging out."

"No one just hangs out for over a week." He shrugged again.

"I'll move on eventually I'm sure. As soon as you decide to kick me out."

"I didn't say you couldn't stay." Which was an odd thing _to _say considering the fact that he hardly knew anything about the kid. He'd just shown up and that was that. No ifs ands or buts. He'd memorized everything in the house and knew how everything worked. Even to the point of lifting up on the bathroom door before you pushed it open. It was bizarre and a bit disconcerting, but it seemed natural to just let the boy stay there.

"You should, I'm underage, if someone's looking for me they'll accuse you for kidnapping and probably endangering the welfare of a minor." The sarcasm was mixed in with a bit of scathing annoyance and it was clear that he didn't think highly of that possibility. So Gibbs fed him a bone.

"Someone looking for you?"

"Nope." He said it with a bit too much ease.

"Then I guess you're good then." The marine sighed for a moment and closed his eyes. He wondered what it was like not having anyone worry about you. It was an odd idea to think that the boy didn't have _anyone _that was curious about his whereabouts. "You never answered my question."

"Which one was that?" He asked with a bit too much innocence. The kid was used to evading the answer to questions it seemed. He never said anything that he hadn't thought out carefully – and he thought lightening fast. He was highly intelligent, that Gibbs could see clearly.

"Where you stayed before here."

"Ah, all over the place. At work mostly."

"And where's that?"

"Movie theatre downtown." It wasn't too much of a surprise. In the meaningless chatter he'd had to sit though, the kid loved movies and he talked about them at an incessant pace that was too fast to keep up with. It was just chatter though, and the cluttered words didn't seem to have any point, he'd blocked most of it out and just gave the appropriate "uh-huh" where they deemed appropriate.

"You go to school?"

"Nah, haven't in over a year now."

"Truancy is against the law."

"So is kidnapping." He pointed out and Gibbs rolled his eyes. The boy was quick, that was for sure. He certainly wasn't going to call the cops on the kid after all this time, and the boy was obviously sharp as a tack.

They sat in silence for a moment, neither feeling up to breaking it with anything. Eventually the kid stood up and offered him a hand. He accepted the help for what it was and was assisted to his feet and towards his bed. The kid was good at keeping track of little things and managed to make sure he wasn't in pain too much as he helped out.

"You have any family out there?" Gibbs asked, and he could have sworn he saw the kid flinch. He looked at him for a moment. That wasn't right. Why would someone do that?

"I guess, everyone does right?"

"Where are yours at?" He pressed closely on that fact, and the boy glanced away from him.

"Don't know. Don't care." He had the opportunity to call the boy out on the lie, but he turned it down.

"I need a name to call you."

"It's Danny." The boy offered. Gibbs could taste the lie for what it was, but he nodded anyway. He didn't want to press. At the moment, he honestly was just curious. He couldn't keep calling the kid…well…"kid."

"Danny?"

"Short for Daniel, like Daniel Day Lewis." The boy was beaming a great smile at him, and Gibbs choked out a laugh.

"Fair enough." His stomach was settling, and the conversation was calming, almost. It was enough to make him stop thinking about things his mind couldn't let go. He could have sworn he heard a child laughing and the ding of a bicycle down the street. He grit his teeth. It was four in the fucking morning, there were no little girls on pink Barbie bicycles at four in the fucking morning.

He focused instead on the teenager in front of him. The boy was tall, but probably still growing. He had dark blonde hair that spiked out in all directions, it looked like it was going to darken even more as time went on – becoming a light brown that only hinted at its previous color. His eyes were a startling green, and Gibbs was faintly reminded of a poem about Ireland as he looked at them. The kid was young, probably younger then he said he was, and he most _definitely _lying half the time he spoke.

When he'd first realized the kid was here, he'd been slammed with a hot sense of paranoia. His mind immediately went to where the kid was sleeping and how he was getting around so easily, but those questions were answered quickly enough. Despite the kid's many disappearing acts – he always left one place with something of him to take note of.

The unfinished boat in the basement, turned upside down and leaned underneath the stairs, had enough access under it for a lithe body to crawl under and make a nifty kind of fort. Kelly used to make a club house under the boat, and it seemed the boy had done the same. Gibbs had nearly been thrown into a fit of anger at seeing the spot so occupied, his daughter's death had cut him so deep the core that any sign that things were changing and being undone.

Then, almost instantly afterwards, he had been filled with a sense of ease. Seeing the boy curled up there, hugging a well-worn backpack to his chest, looked _natural _and he'd let it go.

If he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he couldn't bear to have the house devoid of all human presence. The kid was a distraction – someone who was filling his mind with thoughts other then the death of his wife and daughter.

Gibbs lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, trying hard not to think of everything. His mind kept blinking back towards Shannon and Kelly, and he couldn't make it stop. Danny started to talk, suddenly and without warning. His voice low and soothing even as it broke through Gibbs' barricades. He was rambling now, about anything and everything. He kept talking about people he knew and drunkenness and alcohol, and movies.

The sound of his voice seemed to wash away the rampaging thoughts, and soon enough…Gibbs had fallen asleep.

He woke to the sound of cookware clinking in the kitchen, and he groaned as his stomach rebelled once more. He shifted, and fumbled awkwardly for his cane again, and finally managed to get to his feet. Slightly surprised that the kid hadn't heard him moving and come to investigate – nosy brat – he listened closely to the movements down below.

He could hear the soft dulcet tones of a hum coming from the old radio that Shannon had picked up at an antique store. It was groaning out what sounded like jazz – crackles and all. Every so often Danny would trill along with his tongue the various horn parts as they started to grow with enthusiasm.

For the first time in weeks…Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs smiled. It was small, but it was a start. Pushing himself towards the door and down the stairs, he managed to make his way to the kitchen where the teenager was busy making what looked like eggs.

Turning slightly to glance at him, Danny blinked owlishly for a moment before smiling brightly. "How do you like em?" Gibbs shrugged, and glanced towards the pan. He didn't remember buying eggs. The kid answered for him, talking rapidly and with ease. "I like 'em scrambled, and since I'm cooking, and they're my eggs…you can have some this way."

"You don't know how to make them any other way." Gibbs told him evenly. The boy laughed, and nodded his head, his shaggy blonde hair flying in all directions.

"True." Turning off the stove, the kid opened up a cupboard and grabbed two plates before turning and putting a generous amount on them both. He passed the man a plate and then reached for some forks.

"Where'd you get the eggs?" Gibbs asked lightly, feeling surprisingly better despite how hung-over he'd felt earlier.

"I found some cash in your wallet and bought them from the store around the corner." The man blinked, a frown settling on his features. The kid rolled his eyes. "I told you I had a job. I paid for them myself." That sounded more like the truth, but he could never be sure with this kid.

Danny shoved spoonfuls of the eggs into his mouth, eating like a man possessed for a time. Gibbs watched him, his gut churning as he blinked at the rabid pace the boy ate. It was almost unsettling to see how much the kid was shoveling into his mouth. It made him feel sick and he didn't like it.

"Manners, Danny?" The kid froze, fork half levitating before his mouth. His eyes glossed over for a moment, as though he was remembering something from a long time ago. Then, just as quickly as it came, the look vanished. He shook his head and grinned up at Gibbs.

"Nah. I can't have much manners if I'm a homeless wretch now can I?" The words were meant to be lighthearted, but they made the marine frown. His eyes narrowed slightly, and the kid fumbled, and kept talking. "Well, I'm freeloading, right? So no manners? I mean, it's not like this is exactly high class etiquette or anything…" His eyes nervously glanced towards the clock on the wall, and his face paled suddenly. "I have to go." Shoveling the rest of the eggs into his mouth, he tossed his plate in the sink and turned the water on.

He left it running as he ran down the basement steps towards the boat. Gibbs sat still, staring at the faucet and listening as the boy rustled around downstairs. He emerged a few minutes later, hoodie pulled over his head and muddy sneakers on his feet. He twisted the water off, and then started towards the door. Gibbs sent him a frown, not feeling up to talking to the kid, but still not understanding what was going on.

"I have work…remember?" Gibbs blinked at that, but the kid just rolled his eyes, and hurried out the door.

After the boy had left, the marine sat staring at his eggs until they were too cold to even think about eating. He tossed them into the trash and stared at his sink for a long while. He couldn't find the urge to do the dishes, and instead made his way towards the liquor cabinet where he'd been slowly depleting his store for days now.

As far as he could tell, Danny never touched the liquor. That didn't mean he hadn't intended to in the future, or contemplated it in the past…it just meant that he hadn't as of yet. Maybe he should get a lock? Maybe he should just kick the kid out and get rid of him for good.

Sinking into the couch, Gibbs turned his attention to the TV that was sitting across from him. Shannon had loved movies; she'd talked about them constantly. At one point in life, she had wanted to do the costumes for plays, and movies, and anything else she could get her hands on. She was a designer through and through, and she adored watching things if only to get a take on their overall appearance.

Kelly had a collection of movies as well, Disney, loony tunes, and assorted VHSes here and there. As Gibbs stared at the blank screen, he felt the uncontrollable urge to watch one of her favorites. Standing up shakily, he moved across the room and put _Snow White_ into the machine. It didn't take long for it to load, and with some gin in hand, he sipped at it while the early commercials rose.

By the time the purple screen appeared with the white _Feature Presentation _letters written in cursive danced across the screen, he was well and truly buzzed. By the end of the first song, he could have sworn he felt the pressure of a head on his shoulder and the childlike laughter of his beautiful little girl as she watched the movie.

He turned to look at her, his head swimming somewhat as he couldn't see her. "Kelly?" He called out, twisting when he didn't see her at his side. The laughter continued. "Kelly?" He called out again.

Pushing himself back to his feet, he stumbled forwards. Pain shot up his leg – a harsh reminder that he was still supposed to use the cane for another three weeks. He grimaced, and stumbled, before eventually losing balance completely and falling to the floor.

_Daddy! _Pushing himself upright, Gibbs twisted again. He swore he could hear his daughter now. She was moving outside, he could hear her on the porch. _Daddy, daddy! I want to show you what Maddie and I made! _

A knock at the door trilled through his consciousness. Pushing himself upright, he moved as fast as he could. Desperation filled him as he moved in time with Snow White – running through the woods to escape the forest. He made it to the door in only a few heartbeats, but pain was screaming through his leg. He didn't care.

Pulling the door open he wouldn't admit to the painful call of "Kelly?" that tore at his lungs. His daughter wasn't there though. In her place, was a middle-aged man who lived next door – John Tayler. Maddie Tayler's father.

The man looked at him sadly, his lips in a grimace. "Sorry Jethro, just me." He said, honesty pouring from his lips. He had meant what he had said, and it took a moment for Gibbs to translate that news. Sorry for what? That's when he remembered his painful cry for his little girl…

He felt his head spin. "What do you want John?" Gibbs asked, his mood turning sour in an instant. At one point he had loved Maddie Tayler and her family like they were his own. Now, God help him, he felt absurdly jealous of them all. They were all still together…Shannon and Kelly were dead, and he was alone.

"Just wanted to check in on you, Jethro. How're you doing?"

"I'm fine." The words came out with as much ice as possible, and it made John's cheek twitch. He nodded slightly.

"Marie," his wife "wanted you to know, that the both of us…no matter what. We'll be here for you if you need us. We know how much this hurts…"

"Do you, John? Do you _really _know how much this hurts?" Gibbs spat, his voice cold and his fists clenching. "Because the last I checked, Maddie and Marie were still alive and well. You have no God-damn-_idea _how much this hurts."

"Jethro, I understand that, but we're still your friend. We-"

"Well I don't want a friend right now! I want my wife and daughter back! You? You can go to fucking hell!" Slamming the door shut in his _friend's_ face had left him gasping for breath and reeling in satisfaction. That had felt oddly _good_.

Standing up, he moved towards the living room where _Snow White _was still playing, he scowled in anger and threw the first thing he could grab towards the television. The pillow didn't deliver nearly as much destruction as he had hoped, and so he rallied himself around the attempt to just break everything in sight.

Everything was Kelly's…everything was Shannon's…and he wanted it all to go. It shouldn't be here when they weren't. Nothing was the same now that they were gone. Nothing was allowed to be the same now that they weren't here.

Gibbs knew at some point he'd drank everything in his liquor cabinet, and probably was only a step away from alcohol poisoning. There was rustling at the front door, and he blearily turned his head to see who it was. It didn't surprise him at all when he saw the kid slip inside.

The boy stood in the hall, just in sight, and stared at the destruction that had been caused in his absence. All the chairs had been flipped over. The couch had been gutted, the TV was in shambles, the wood floors were scratched and scuffed, the glass had been shattered on the floor, the books were thrown everywhere, the tape rolls in the cassettes were pulled out and shredded, and there was ripped paper everywhere.

Gibbs had been prepared for the boy's face the whole day long. He'd been expecting surprise, disbelief, shock, hell…_anything_. He hadn't expected the weary acceptance that washed over the boy easily enough. The teen turned his head almost instantly, and his eyes met the marine's without fail.

"Well…did you at least find the loose change in the cushions?" The kid asked evenly. Gibbs blinked once, twice, and then for some reason – tears started to fall from his face.

Despite the euphoria that had filled him while he'd succeeded in destroying every household item he could grab, he felt no satisfaction in the boy's words. He felt nothing except an inexplicable feeling of shame. He brought a hand to his eyes and tried to rub the tears out.

The kid inched closer. "Hey…" Danny said softly. "it's okay. I can find it if you didn't…"

"Why are you even here?" Gibbs finally managed to get out.

"Where am I going to go?" The boy replied, slowly coming even closer. He seemed wary, as though he wasn't sure if he should come within arms reach just yet.

"Home?" Gibbs murmured.

"Don't really have one." Danny said softly.

"Why?"

"From the moment my mom died, my dad sent me away to boarding school. No calls, no letters, no vacations together…well…vacations that weren't business trips. Didn't even get invited to the last few weddings, etc. etc. Kind of hard to call that a home."

"You run away from him to make it official…or to get him to notice?" A look of pain crossed the kid's face, and he shrugged.

"I just wanted to see if he cared I guess…turns out my absence didn't mean too much to him. Kinda hard to go back now." The kid moved closer, and sat beside Gibbs on the wall. "My mom died when I was eight." The marine turned his head and frowned at the boy. "She and my dad never really got along I guess, but I loved her. She'd take me everywhere; she wouldn't let me go to school, and taught me everything herself. Spent everyday outside, 'learning through life' she always said. Dad never really liked that, and thought that I should be taught formally. They got into a lot of fights about it. She never said anything about it to me, but I could always tell she wasn't happy. One day…I guess that it was just too much." Danny's face grew sullen suddenly, and his head turned downwards. "Mom had started to make a habit of sleeping in my room – to get away from my dad, I guess. I woke up one morning, with her in my bed, and she never did…wake up that is."

"Why are you telling me this?" Gibbs asked softly. The boy shrugged evenly.

"The funeral was done real nice. Dad made up a nice respectable cover story, and I was packed to go to boarding school before I could even remember what I was supposed to tell people." The teen ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Look, I'm not good with the whole post death grieving thing. Best I got is being sent away to a place that I'd never been. I guess if I was my dad I'd tell you you needed to get a new house and move on." Gibbs growled at that the sound came low in his throat, and for a moment he worried he might panic the boy next to him. That thought had him reeling though, why the _fuck _was he worried about how his reaction might be taken by this total stranger? The kid moved on. "Look, I'm not my dad, but the thing is…maybe you understand a bit too? If you need to do this to move on…then maybe we should start dismantling the upstairs too?" The teen looked uncomfortable.

Gibbs stared at him for a long while. His eyes took the boy in, and there, sitting amidst the destruction of the house, the man felt something in his head seem to click. The boy, in his own way, _was _trying to make him feel better. He still hadn't worked out a motive for why the kid was really here in the first place – he didn't doubt the reason the kid left home…but the reason he was really _here_, still puzzled the man. They'd work on that another time.

For now, he figured he'd throw the boy a bone. He didn't want the boy to leave altogether – the thought of being completely alone still gave him an uncomfortable feeling of panic. So the only other option, was clearly to just indulge the boy.

At the moment though, watching the kid from where he sat, he didn't think he really _could _go through the rampage he'd done earlier if the boy was still there. It just didn't feel right. There was something he wanted to confirm about that before this went any further, as well.

Striking out hard and fast, he watched in morbid fascination as the boy beside him badly recoiled, flinching violently and ducking away in fear. The blow was never going to land, Gibbs had had no intention of actually hitting the boy beside him. He simply wanted to know exactly how much the kid was leaving out of his tale of woe.

No one flinched that badly to a perceived strike unless they'd been hit before – and repeatedly. The kid, who had only now decided to open his eyes and look up at the frozen hand in the air, seemed to realize that too. His face closed off even more then it had during the brief talk about his mother, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"It never happened." He stated coolly. The marine wasn't entirely sure that he believed the boy. At this point, it was fifty-fifty. The kid wasn't known to be a complete truth sayer, and at the moment, he was more then willing to bet that Danny wouldn't tell him the truth even if he had asked – which he hadn't.

The reaction had been enough to prove something, not enough to prove who had done it, but enough to prove that something had occurred. The kid may act like he was perfectly at ease with the world around him, but the truth was rather different. Most of what he was putting off was a façade. Which only opened more questions rather then closed them off with answers.

Why would this kid, who was obviously expecting to get struck more then offered help in anyway, willingly put himself in a situation with a drunk man who probably couldn't control himself anyway? Why would he spend his time actively doing things that could get him beaten again? If Gibbs hadn't been the man he was, the boy could have been seriously hurt ages ago. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

"I don't understand you, Danny." Gibbs offered softly, before sighing heavily, and starting to push himself up. His knee was collapsing under his weight, and he grimaced. The teen moved forwards, though, and helped him to his feet. Another conundrum. Why would he _do _that? The marine had just faked a strike at him, and yet here he was, willingly putting himself in harms way once again.

"Don't know anyone who does." The kid replied evenly. He maneuvered the mess on the floor expertly, and slowly helped the marine back up the stairs to his room. Gibbs let him do what he did in silence, his fuzzy brain working strenuously to try to figure his house guest out. The pieces weren't connecting properly though, and the man grimaced as he imagined the alcohol was the problem.

"You got hit before." Gibbs stated firmly and with finality when they finally made it to his bedroom. The boy was silent for a moment.

"Everyone's been hit before." He evaded evenly.

"Your dad?" At that the kid snorted and rolled his eyes.

"My dad never lay a finger on me." He stated without pause.

"You lying?" The marine hazarded. The boy helped him onto his bed, and then stepped back.

"Nope. I'm serious; he never touched me – not once. No handshake, hug, head slap, arm around the shoulders, nothing. Touching me would mean he acknowledged my existence, and I don't think that he's quite done that yet. I think he's actively trying to forget that I ever was born." The ease of the words slipping from the kid's mouth, and the haunted look that even an expert couldn't fake was convincing enough. The kid wasn't lying. His father had honestly never touched him once.

Gibbs stared at the boy for a long time, his eyes locked in the kid's tormented green gaze. He couldn't imagine going a day without giving Kelly a hug when he'd been able. Every single day he saw her, he had held her for as long as he was able and had never wanted to let go. How could a parent who was blessed with a child, forgo that simple act even once? Let alone for the child's lifetime?

Acting more on instinct then anything else, Gibbs reached out – ignored the flinch once more – and pulled the boy close to him. The teen resisted at first, not seeming to understand what was going on. When his chest was resting against Gibbs's and his head was pressed to the man's shoulder, he just stood there in silence. His arms were hanging uselessly at his side as the man held him for a moment.

From where he was, the marine could feel the boy's heart fluttering a rapid pace in his chest. The kid was nervous, terrified even. He didn't seem to know what he was supposed to do. A sort of keen pleasure had to be taken from that, Gibbs realized. It was the first time he'd manage to knock the boy off kilter. The horribly depressing part of the story, was the fact that the boy was off balance because he was being kind to him.

"Should've been held everyday." Gibbs determined easily. The teen snorted at that, but slowly raised a hand so he was awkwardly holding the marine back. He didn't say anything, and neither did Gibbs. For a moment, they both just stood there and let it all happen.

Gibbs pretended that he wasn't holding Danny out of the intense urge to hold his own daughter, and Danny pretended that he wasn't staying there out of his own intense urge to be held by his father. It was a game of pretend, a game of make believe, and it was dangerous. The moment the game ended – life would start back up again, and the world would not be forgiving. One of them would snap, and call it quits, and then the other would be damaged irrevocably. That was the only way this could end. It was just a matter of when.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter: **

The next day, Danny didn't have to go in to work, and so he and Gibbs spent the day cleaning up the house. If the neighbors were curious who the boy helping the marine was, they didn't say anything. Instead, they just kept on going as the teenager made several trips to the garbage to deposit smashed glass and belongings.

It was during the ensuing cleaning process, that Gibbs began to learn more about his housemate. The boy might say he was nineteen, something the marine highly doubted, but he acted with the maturity of someone far beyond his years at times. Then, in a blink of an eye, he would turn around and start whining about things that he didn't want to do or take care of.

The kid had excellent taste in music – jazz, all of it. He could belt it out with the best of them as soon as the radio came on, and wasn't afraid to make all the sound effects he thought were completely necessary. The comedy routine seemed to be aimed at nothing at all, just the boy in his 'natural' environment, but Gibbs appreciated it for what it was. Danny was only tolerated because he was distraction, and he was good at doing that job.

What did surprise Gibbs was when the kid had made a soft comment about how one of the pianos on the radio was slightly out of tune. He tried to hear what the kid was talking about, but he couldn't hear it. He asked the boy if he played, and to his surprise – the teenager shrugged timidly, grabbed some more garbage, and hurried out the door for another trash run.

It wasn't hard to see that the kid was embarrassed about it, and for some reason, Gibbs felt the urge to sit the boy down at Kelly's piano and see what he could do with it. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, however, he felt as though he'd been flooded with ice water.

The idea of this teenager…this stranger…in Kelly's room, playing _her _piano…was unthinkable. It made him fill with anger and denial. He didn't want anyone in that room. That door was to remain shut at all times, and no one – not even he – was allowed in it.

He didn't even bring up the presence of the piano, lest to tempt the teen into going up there. He wanted nothing of the sort. For the rest of the day, though, he watched as the kid paid closer attention to certain songs over others. His fingers occasionally would twitch at his sides in time with the notes in the air. But the most telling, was the slight twitch of the eyes when he recognized a piece, and a slight quirk of the lips when it became clear…he knew how to play that.

While Danny was still sweeping in the living room, Gibbs hurried to Kelly's and locked the door tight. He thought about sealing it so that nothing could get in or out, maybe he should wall it up – make it disappear out of the hallway just as she had disappeared out of his life.

He was contemplating on doing just that when the music below was interrupted by a heavy-handed knock at the door. He walked down the stairs, and his eyes instantly went to Danny. The kid was pale as a ghost, his back – ramrod straight – and his eyes were wide with fear. He was actually physically shaking, as he stared at the door. Whoever it was knocked again.

"Danny?" Gibbs asked, frowning at the kid.

"I…gotta go." The boy said swiftly, dropping the broom where he stood and running towards the back door. Gibbs tried to grab at his wrist, but the teen twisted away and he was too injured to speed after him. The boy was out the door and hoping the fence before he could even blink.

The knocking continued. Scowling hatefully, the man slowly turned and shouted. "It's open!" When the cause of the kid's fright appeared in his home, Gibbs could only blink. It was Mike Franks, the man who was overseeing his wife and daughter's murder case.

The Agent glanced around the house with a raised eyebrow and then looked at Gibbs for a long while. "Shit, that's exactly what you look like, Gunny…_shit_." Scowling, the marine grit his teeth. He didn't particularly feel inclined to listen to the grizzled Agent. He was so far _not _in the mood at the moment. Especially because Danny had just high-tailed it out of there like a bat out of hell for no God-damn reason.

He didn't feel up to talking to the man, so he hobbled into the kitchen to figure out if he still had some liquor left. He almost laughed when he saw the sticky note on one of the whiskey bottles telling him to buy more trash bags if he was going to drink some more. The comment was direct and to the point, and the only reason Gibbs didn't laugh was because the shame in his belly coursed to a new high.

He didn't need some nineteen-year-old punk kid coming in here and telling him anything. Which was another thing; only moments after claiming to be nineteen the kid straight up said he was a minor. Gibbs was getting more than a little annoyed with all of the lying and idiocy going on around this. You know what? _Fuck_ him. He should learn to mind his own damn business. Standing up straight, Gibbs glanced back at Mike who was looking at him with a blank expression.

"You gonna live in a liquor bottle for the rest of your life? Or are you gonna suck it up, Gunny?" Hot anger coursed through Gibbs at that, and he felt the strongest urge to just bash this bastard's face right into the dirt. How dare he? How _dare _he?

"That all you came in here to say?" Gibbs asked, honestly curious. Was there any other news about the bastard who killed his girls? Anything at all?

"Yeah. Just checking up on you. Don't know why I bothered though. Place is a mess, smells like a brewery too."

"If you don't like it, you can just leave. I'm not your friend, and I'm not your responsibility. The only thing I want to hear out of you, are the words 'we got him.'" Gibbs snapped, eyes narrowed in hatred.

"Its gonna be a while, Gunny. You aint gonna hear 'em at all if you keep drinkin' yourself into a coma every night. Look at your house!"

"I'm cleaning it." The man said coolly.

"Yeah…I can see that."

"What's taking so long on this anyway, you know who it is! Why can't you just get him?" Desperation and anger melded into one, and Gibbs moved closer to the Agent who sighed and looked troubled for a moment.

"It's not just a murder investigation, Gunny."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The marine hissed, gritting his teeth as fury flooded through him.

"It's a kidnapping as well." Those words sounded eerily familiar, but Gibbs couldn't quite place them as he took a swig from the dirty bottle. "A kid was supposed to go to the safe house with Shannon and Kelly," the names tore at Gibbs' heart and he twisted his face and looked away. He knew Mike kept talking, something about this kid and how he'd been kidnapped by the bastard who murdered his girls. He felt sorry for the brat, he really did…but the kid was still alive, and his girls weren't.

"I hope you find him, and he's all right." He said sincerely. Still, it didn't change the fact that this kidnapping was just making this worse. Franks said some more things, but he honestly didn't care anymore. He was done with it all. The Agent left not too long afterwards, and Gibbs tiredly sank into his destroyed couch.

He was exhausted, and he was hurting. Fuck cleaning. He'd deal with it all later.

That night he dreamed of his beautiful girls. Shannon was in the park, and Kelly was with her. It was one of those rare moments when he'd just returned home from a trip over seas and he was finally free to spend time with his family. Shannon was telling him about the people in the neighborhood, someone she was tutoring, and her new designs that she was planning on making.

Shannon loved making all of her own clothes. Kelly was her model of choice, and everything that Shannon worked out, the little girl wore with pride. Like right now. She was in her favorite yellow sundress with ribbons in her hair. Her black dress shoes were covered in mud from running around in them, but Gibbs didn't care. She looked beautiful and happy…that's all that mattered.

"How about we head down to the fair we passed. Think Kelly would like that?" He asked her, leaning his head on his hand and looking at her with such a feeling of peace. Shannon smiled prettily hat him and she leaned forwards to kiss his cheek.

"Oh Gibbs, she's just happy that you're home!" The soldier nodded his head at that and then moved to touch Shannon's face.

At that exact moment when his hand touched her cheek, the image snapped away and he was staring down at the sight of a destroyed car at the bottom of a cliff. It'd crashed through the guardrails and hit the water of the river below. A crane had been used to pull it up, and there, lying on the ground, was his beautiful wife.

Kelly was lying beside her, and there was blood splattered all over her pretty face and yellow dress. Her perfect hair was messy and wet. She was blue, and she was hurt so badly…The buttons on her dress were snapped and it was clear someone had tried doing CPR on her, but it wouldn't matter.

The scene flashed, and now the girls were being lowered into the ground.

Anger filled him as he looked around. There was Joanne, Shannon's mother. She was screaming hate filled words at him, blaming him for everything. Where was he when his girls needed him? Where was he? Off fighting a war that was over. He should have been protecting them. She kept reminding him of that fact, and Gibbs had nothing to say. He had nothing he could say.

Jack, his father, was standing there with a date of all things. He'd brought a date to his daughter in law and grandchild's funeral. "Leroy, I'd like you to meet-"

"Not interested." Gibbs hissed as he stalked passed them all.

In his mind he could only see Shannon's pretty face, Kelly's yellow dress, and then their deaths over and over again.

The nightmare forced Gibbs awake, and he listened for the sounds of Danny to come in. It didn't happen. The kid hadn't returned that night. He felt a stab of anger that he knew was completely unfounded. The kid wasn't his responsibility. The kid didn't even live here. And most of all: he wasn't the kid's responsibility. TH brat shouldn't even be here, and this was exactly what he wanted. To be left alone.

He managed to get himself downstairs to the liquor cabinet, but he'd emptied it already. Glaring at his surroundings he couldn't help but feel a stab of fury that coursed through him. Why the hell hadn't Mike caught that fucking bastard yet? Why was Pedro Hernandez still walking around?

Stumbling into the living room he tripped and fell onto the couch. His head sank into his hands and he grit his teeth. Why were his girls allowed to die, but Pedro Hernandez was allowed to do whatever it was that he was doing? Where was the justice in that? Where was the righteousness in that?

Danny stayed scares for almost a week. In that time, Gibbs had dutifully left the mess of his home exactly as it was. He even added to it whenever he found that he couldn't keep staring at everything the way it was. The only grand achievement he managed had been going to the liquor store and restocking his supplies. The man behind the counter was someone he'd known for years, and when the bastard had fiven him a look of utter sympathy, Gibbs couldn't help but glower at him and storm away in utter fury.

His leg was hurting still, but he didn't need the cane as much. It didn't make his departure smooth, though. He'd bumped it against the door and the cry of pain he'd let out was enough to have someone ask him if he was okay. He didn't want pity; he didn't want anything. He just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to soak up his misery and he wanted to drown in it. He was more than happy to just let the world spin without him, and he intended to do that the best he could.

His knee ended up hurting a lot more than he thought it would, though. By the time he got home, he could barely walk at all, and he sat on the couch. Grumbling, he took out a bottle and started to drink from it. He gulped down whole swallows that burned his throat and made his head spin.

After about an hour, he figured he should at least find an ace bandage to wrap his leg with, and so he started to stumble towards the basement. There was a fully stocked first aid kid on his workbench. As he limped down the stairs, his eyes caught sight of a well-worn backpack and a slightly ragged teenager that was curled under the hull of his boat. He looked like he was having some form of nightmare because his face was contorted in pain and he was whimpering in his sleep.

Moving forwards, the slightly inebriated marine felt no shame in slamming a hammer down not too far away from where the boy was slumbering. The boy started badly. Flinching away from the noise before he was even fully awake to comprehend what was happening, Danny threw his hands up and strangled out an "_I'm sorry!"_ Gibbs had thought the look on the kid's face would have been comical, but instead it made him feel even worse. The boy's reaction had been an instant buzz kill and he felt his lips purse slightly as he looked at the teen.

"Hey." He said, not offering an apology despite how it was needed. The boy was shivering, flinching away from him even as his eyes watched him warily. He looked ready to bolt at any minute, and it didn't make any sense to the marine. It did make him feel like shit though.

"H-hey." The boy replied, gripping his backpack tighter. He coughed slightly under his breath, and Gibbs frowned. It was chilly down here.

"You want a blanket?" he asked dumbly. How could the boy stand it here?

"I'm okay." Danny whispered softly. It was a lie.

"You're cold." Gibbs stated blankly, not understanding the resistance he was being met with.

"I'm okay." The teen repeated; eyes locked on anything and everything that _wasn't _Gibbs specifically.

"Danny?" The boy finally met his gaze. "You sure you're okay?" Gibbs questioned, moving closer. The boy nodded, but his body was tense and he'd shifted slightly away from the man.

"Yeah, _dad_, I'm fine." He said it sarcastically, but both he and Gibbs froze at the word. The teen shrank even farther into the wall. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I won't say it again. I'm half asleep. Don't listen to anything I say. I'm just…sorry." He grit his teeth and turned away, his eyes squeezed shut and he looked like he was expecting to get rocked. Nothing happened though.

Gibbs, for a moment thinking clearly though the heavy waves of drunkenness, just accepted the apology. He took it for the joke it was, despite how his heart was thundering in his ears and his head was filling with images of Kelly.

His hand snatched up the first aid kit he'd come down for in the first place. "I need another drink. Get a blanket if you're cold." With that loving form of acceptance, the marine walked back up the stairs and into the main part of the house. Danny didn't move for the rest of the night, and had the marine been in any state to analyze what was happening around him, he would have heard the boy's quiet sobs as he wept in the basement in an attempt to physically remove the pain he was feeling from his body.

The next morning…neither spoke about it. Danny made some more scrambled eggs for them, but he was quiet and he held himself stiffly. Gibbs stared at him for a long while, before he finally had had enough, and moved towards him.

Flinching badly, the boy stared up at him in dumb shock. "What are you doing?" He asked in confusion.

"You hurt?" Gibbs asked sharply, and Danny didn't have a chance to lie, before the man lifted the kid's shirt up and caught sight of the dark bruising that surrounded his torso.

"Should've seen the other guy." Danny said, trying to smile.

"This why you came back last night?"

"Didn't know where else to go…was tired." Danny pushed his shirt back into place.

"You want…advil or something?"

"No." The teen muttered.

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

"You're staying here aren't you? Makes it my business."

"Got into a fight with someone that I shouldn't have. I won, it should be over. Okay?" It sounded like he wanted to say that word again, like it was on the tip of his tongue and just echoing in the room without being said. Gibbs actually expected to hear him say it, but the boy was nothing if not stubborn. He kept his mouth firmly shut and the word 'dad' never came out.

"You get into fights often?"

"Nothing's going to happen to your precious house." The kid hissed, before turning and making his way out the door.

Gibbs glared after him, contemplated locking it behind the boy, but in the end knew that it wouldn't matter. None of this mattered. He was sick and tired of the drama, of being bothered, and of never having a say in anything.

Danny returned that night, he was still looking a bit pained, but he didn't speak to Gibbs. He just disappeared under the hull and went to sleep. Gibbs watched him for a while, and started working on the boat if only to annoy the brat. The kid didn't seem to care that he was sanding and hammering just above him, he slept through it…or pretended to sleep through it…all night long.

Over the next few days, the marine studied the kid's behavior – it was really the only other thing he could do.

What he found only confused him, however. The boy had started to come only at night, as soon as he could leave the house, he did. Loud noises frightened him, and made him jittery. And he still inhaled food so fast that it was unbelievable.

Gibbs could handle everything else to some degree, but the food was something that was honestly bothering him. "Why do you do that?" He asked bluntly one evening as they were sitting down to eat. Danny had already breezed through a burger and his fries were disappearing by the palm-full.

The kid froze, and his hands fell to his lap. "Sorry." He said softly.

"Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness." His tone came off harder then he meant it, and the boy flinched badly. When the kid made no effort to explain himself, Gibbs prodded a bit. "Someone take your food away?" He asked, trying to put the pieces together.

Danny's fingers were twitching slightly, tugging at his napkin awkwardly. He didn't want to talk about this anymore then Gibbs wanted to talk about his girls, but this was Gibbs house…and he wanted to know.

"Not all the time." Danny confirmed lightly. It was enough of a confession to make the marine want to hunt down whoever took it away sometimes. "Just when I was being bad."

"And how often was that?" The marine questioned softly. The boy didn't respond for a while. Finally he settled on:

"Not all the time."

"You want some more?" Gibbs asked, looking at the teen's skin-and-bone physic. The kid frowned at him in confusion, and was looking at his food suspiciously. "If you're hungry…we'll make more. But you have to eat it." It was a house rule after all. Tony looked at his fries, and chewed on his bottom lip.

"I'm fine." The kid whispered, before inhaling the last few, and standing up to do the dishes. Gibbbs sighed and moved on. He wasn't going to push. The kid needed to find his own…well…on his own. Whoever fucked him over had done a thorough job of it, and Gibbs knew for a fact he wasn't the man to fix the boy's obvious issues. As far as his eating disorder seemed to go, however, it was just something that they'd work on. The moment that that thought crossed Gibbs' mind, he recoiled from the idea. He had no intention of sticking around with the teenager any longer than he absolutely had to.

At the same time…he certainly was never going to take food from in front of the boy, or eat while the kid was left starving. He couldn't do that to a stranger, and he most certainly couldn't do it to a kid. Somehow he'd figure out a way to get the kid to trust that. If anything, he'd sneak some more food onto the boy's plate to start with if he had to.

"Why'd you bolt earlier?" Gibbs asked, changing the subject. The boy shrugged noncommittally.

"Doesn't really matter." He replied awkwardly.

"Guess not." The silence continued. Irritation was flooding Gibbs, and he wondered for the umpteenth time why he didn't just toss the kid out on his ass. If the brat was going to stay here, at the very least he could talk to him like a normal human being. "You planning on staying here all winter?" It was getting colder and colder these days, and he knew from previous nights the kid had to be freezing under the hull. The boy just shrugged non-committedly.

"I'll leave eventually." The boy murmured.

"Yeah? And when would that be?" The words came out sharper than Gibbs meant them to, and Danny flinched. He started to head down the stairs to the basement, only to reappear a few moments after that with his backpack slung over his shoulder and his hoodie over his chest.

Fuck it. He really didn't care anymore. Danny Whatever-His-Last-Name-Was wasn't his problem.

Winter came early that year, and Gibbs hadn't seen the kid again since that day in the kitchen. A part of him kept telling himself that he didn't care and that Danny wasn't his problem. A much larger part kept telling him that he needed to figure out if the teen was at least getting a roof over his head and food in his stomach while the snow started to pile up in the yard.

Franks came by a few more times, giving him status updates and asking him more questions. The person they were looking for was still MIA, and they had no idea where Pedro Hernandez was. He was still being tracked down, and it could take a while to locate him. Gibbs found himself refusing to answer the door whenever Franks came by, nothing was ever made easier by his constant persistence, and he truly just wanted to be left alone.

The phone rang relatively often by a string of well-wishers and curious neighbors who wanted to know how he was doing. He unhooked the jack from the wall, sick and tired of listening to their constant badgering. His mother-in-law in particular was the worst. Whenever she was on one of her drunken spells she'd call him and lay into him. He didn't need to hear her tell him it was his entire fault that the girls were dead…he already knew that.

United States Marine Corps: the few, the proud, the Marines- there to protect the weak and the innocent. So where was he when Shannon and Kelly were killed? Where was he when the best part of the world was snuffed out? Thousands of miles of way. That's where. Hoo-rah.

Gibbs poured himself another drink, and slumped into the sofa. He hadn't been sleeping well in his bed, always felt like it was missing something. Maybe Danny was right, maybe he should move. But…this was home; this was his home…he couldn't leave it. Not when it had been all Shannon had ever wanted. He couldn't destroy her dream. Not here.

His leg wasn't feeling better. After all of this time, he'd been skipping his physical therapy sessions. He hadn't been working it properly, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to care. He knew that he was depressed, but he didn't even have one iota of motivation to work his way out of this state. What was the point of being happy if it was all going to go to hell in a hand basket anyway?

Slurping the drink dry, he made himself another one, and another. Pretty soon, the familiar numbness settled over him and he let himself let go.

As he slept, he dreamt that he was with Shannon and Kelly. Kelly would be sitting at her piano playing scales, and Shannon would be baking bread in the kitchen. He'd walk to his wife and wrap his arms around her. She'd laugh and tell him that she was cooking, but he wouldn't care. He'd just kiss her neck and her cheek and smile as she giggled and tried to pull away.

"_You'll never get any if you keep that up!"_ She'd tell him, and he'd eventually be persuaded to leave.

Kelly would run over to him then, beg him to sit on her bed and listen as she played him a song. It was always a cute little tune she'd just worked out, and he'd sit perfectly still and bask in the sweetness of the moment. He'd be at peace, and he'd be happy.

Then the booze would dry out, his stomach would growl, and he'd wake up in an unlit house that was trashed and dreary. There was no music playing from Kelly's room, and there'd be no bread in the oven. There was simply silence and darkness, and he'd be left miserable once more.

He turned over to look at the booze he'd bought earlier. It had slipped from his hand and had splattered all over the floor. Glaring at the mess, and the empty bottle, he stumbled to his feet and tried to find something to eat. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten, and his skin tingled in the cold.

Looking outside, he glowered at the snow that was coming down. The world moved on with perfect ease. It didn't seem to take note of the fact that a perfect little angel was never going to go make a snowman again, or that there weren't going to be any more snowball fights, no more igloos in the front yard…nothing. How _dare _the world keep turning when Shannon and Kelly weren't there to see it any longer?

Fury coated through him and he threw his glass against the wall, watching it shatter. Cursing loudly he kicked the cabinet, only to have his leg start screaming in pain. Collapsing to the ground he gasped and he squeezed his eyes shut against the burning feelings coursing through him. A part of him couldn't believe that any of this was happening, and he was so sick and tired of it all. It burnt through his soul, and tears started to press from his eyes.

He just wanted to see Shannon and Kelly once more…just once more. Pushing himself upright, he forced his way towards the stairs. Danny was gone now, so he didn't have to worry about the kid finding his body. Franks would probably be the one that did it, and he hoped the bastard felt guilty about not making sure that Shannon and Kelly were safe. He hoped that fucker went to his grave with that guilt on his hands.

He made it to his bedroom and then to the gun safe that was by his bed. Fumbling with the combo, he managed to pull it open, and retrieve his pistol. Sitting down on the mattress, he alleviated the pressure from his bum leg, and then he stared at his gun.

It shimmered in the moonlight, and he felt his shaking fingers run over it. It felt heavy in his hand and it was a comforting weight. He felt a surge of hope. He could be with Shannon and Kelly soon. He'd be with his angels…

Lifting the gun up, he pressed it to his head, and let his eyes slip and fall to the picture of his girls that he kept by his bed. Kelly was smiling; she had ribbons in her hair. Her pretty yellow sundress was all laid out nicely on their picnic blanket. She looked so happy. Shannon had her hands on Kelly's shoulders and was giving him that look. She was smiling too, but her eyes…they were so accusing.

He blinked, gun falling from his fingers for a moment as he stared at the photo. Her smile faded, her eyes glared, and her fists tightened on Kelly's perfect shoulders. _"How dare you let him kill us Gibbs? How dare you!"_

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…" Gibbs fell to his knees in front of the picture, and his leg screamed in pain. He ignored it, though, and simply grabbed the frame. "Sorry…so sorry…" He fell asleep on the ground, and let his nightmares take him.

When he woke up, the gun was gone from his bed. Standing up sharply, he forced back the agony his leg caused him. The pain made him focused, though, and his eyes went everywhere. The safe was still open, and the room was otherwise untouched. The gun…the gun was gone. He scrambled around the house, tearing everything apart until he found some clue as to where the weapon ran off too.

He checked the bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room, the basement…but nothing revealed the missing pistol. His heart pounded in his chest and he forced himself to go upstairs and try to find the will to open Kelly's bedroom door. Swallowing back the pain in his chest, he thrust the door open, but wasn't surprised that the gun was nowhere in sight.

What did surprise him…was the bed. It was different, the pillows had shifted, and the blankets were untucked slightly. A part of him fractured for a moment and he wondered if this was a sign. Had Kelly come back? Sent him a message that he should do this? His breath caught and he nodded his head fervently. He wasn't going to shoot himself, not as long as Kelly kept talking to him…not as long as she was still there with him.

He waited all day for another sign. He knew he was being foolish, but he couldn't help himself. He had his mind convinced…Kelly was there, and she was still with him. She was still talking to him, even though he couldn't hear her words. She was still there.

But no other sign appeared, and in the end of the night, he slumped onto the couch and fell asleep. The next morning, he looked around again for signs of life: anything that had been touched or disturbed. He was rewarded when he found that the food in the refrigerator had shifted. Kelly's favorite icy-pops had been touched – one was missing from the box.

The toys by Kelly's window had been shifted and moved, he found her shoes in different spots. Hope filled Gibbs' chest as he saw these signs, and he prayed fervently that Shannon would show him something to. Was she there? Was she watching over him? Did she want him to keep on doing what he was doing? Did she want him to kill Pedro Hernandez? Because that's what _he _wanted to do. He wanted vengeance more than anything else in the world right now. Nothing would make that go away.

He fell asleep that night, dreaming about Kelly and Shannon and hoping that he'd hear their voices…that he'd see them soon. Which was why when he woke up in the middle of the night to a soft voice floating from somewhere far away whispering: "Dad…" He snapped awake and his heart flew into his throat.

For a moment, he was certain he was imagining things, but then he heard it again. "Dad…" It was coming from upstairs, and he shot to his feet instantly. His leg gave out and he fell against the couch, but he bit back the pain and he forced himself to move. He didn't care how long it took him to get to Kelly's bedroom he was going there as soon as he possibly could. He needed to see his girl. He needed to see her pretty face. "Dad….please…" The begging rumbled around in his mind, and it tore at Gibbs' heart.

He took each stair a step at a time, and when he finally made it to Kelly's bedroom, he wasn't thinking much beyond the pain in his leg and the hope in his heart. Thrusting open the door, his imagination had already supplied him with what he wanted: an image of his beautiful girl. It had been so obvious in his mind, that when his eyes registered who was truly in the room, it took a moment to process.

Danny was curled up on Kelly's bed. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his clothes were damp from melted snow. His hair was plastered to his face and he was shivering badly despite the thin blanket he'd pulled over himself. His shoes were kicked off at the end of the bed, and in his arms was Mr. Snuffles – Kelly's favorite rabbit that was always sitting on her bed. His face was pinched with a nightmare and he was mumbling…calling out for his father. He sounded so much like a child that it had warped itself in Gibbs' mind to sound like Kelly's voice.

Pieces of the past two days fitted into place, and hot fury coursed through the soldier as he realized that everything that he'd taken as a sign, had just been this malicious child that was sleeping in _his daughter's bed_. That was the only thing that he could focus on. There was a nineteen year old boy in his eight year old daughter's bed, and _how dare he violate her in this way_?

"You fucking sun of a bitch-" Gibbs threw himself forwards and grabbed the teenager roughly, the boy's eyes snapped open and he let out a startled shout. It never went beyond that because a moment later Gibbs had slammed his fist into the kid's face. Down the boy went, crashing to the floor. He was only out for the moment, though, because he instantly shot to his feet and bolted. Gibbs was after him in a moment, reaching and tugging even as the kid was turning and twisting – trying to get away.

He was babbling apologies, but Gibbs couldn't see past the teenager violating his daughter's room, all that he had left of his baby girl. How _dare _this boy do that to her? How _dare _he? Danny was tripping over himself, and Gibbs was more than happy to give him a lot of encouragement down the stairs towards the door.

The fall happened in slow motion. Danny's body twisted in the air, and Gibbs had the oddest sensation of watching the teen's neck arc in such a strange manner. The boy's head snapped against the stairs, his arms and legs tumbled and rolled, and when he finally hit the landing, he was motionless.

Gibbs blinked, rationality coursing through him long enough to translate what he'd just done in a different fashion. He'd found a teenager in his house, the same teenager who'd been freeloading for the past month, and he'd just thrown him down a staircase. Horror coursed through him at the exact moment that Danny started moving. He pushed himself up to his knees first, but with his head held down (stubbornly) he never once looked up to see Gibbs. He simply turned and trotted out the door.

Gibbs stared after him in shock. Then, the horror faded, the anger returned, and he forced himself to not give a damn. His hope had been ruined, his dreams were crushed, his daughter was dead – there were no signs, and now his gun was gone. He had no idea where the teen had put it, and the fury of having his pistol stolen from him doubled everything else that he was feeling.

"Probably using it in some gang war." Gibbs muttered angrily as he turned and he stormed away to find himself another drink.

It wasn't until the morning when he found the blood on the landing of the stairs, the shoes in Kelly's bedroom, or the hoodie and jacket the boy had been wearing still left on the floor by Kelly's bed, did he realize that he may have made a huge mistake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Windstar: **Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, I truly appreciate it. One reviewer made a comment about Gibbs hitting a kid and how that was a bit out of character, and that's true. For current Gibbs we see on the show - it's unthinkable. But right now, Gibbs isn't the same character, he's someone whose suffered a great loss. In a way, he's exactly like the Gibbs we saw on the show if he never killed Hernandez - he hasn't received that catharsis yet.

Thank you again for your wonderful reviews, and enjoy.

**Chapter: **

Gibbs went to every movie theatre in a twenty-mile radius to try to find Danny, but no one had ever heard of him before. He walked around his neighborhood in every direction for miles, and when his leg gave out and he couldn't walk anymore, he forced himself to hire a cab to drive him around too. He searched for the teen relentlessly, but Danny was gone, and he knew that that was how it was going to stay.

Guilt had poured into him that flowed far deeper than the guilt he had about leaving Shannon and Kelly. In his mind, he kept replaying the series of events that led him to attacking Danny. The kid had been in the throws of a nightmare, obviously calling out to his father for help, and instead of helping him and talking to him after the kid had woken up…he'd thrown the teen down a staircase and banished him from the house without so much as a pair of shoes on his feet.

Gibbs had forced himself to pay attention to the weather, and his heart sank deeper and deeper as horrific cold fronts landed on DC and refused to budge. Without a doubt, Gibbs knew that if the kid didn't find a place to stay to weather the storm…he'd be as good as dead and it would be all Gibbs' fault.

He tried to find the anger that had been thriving for so long, but in the end he just found an empty chasm where his heart used to be. In the end he just had the memory of a teenager who desperately needed help…and was thrown down a flight of stairs for his efforts.

Guilt poured through him, and Gibbs wished he could blame it on the alcohol, but he hadn't had a drink since he'd seen "Kelly's sign." Even then, though, he wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself for harming a child, even if he had been inebriated at the time. The guilt was overpowering him, and he wondered if there were other ways he could kill himself just as effectively without his missing gun.

He knew though, that he couldn't do that. Not yet. He needed to find that kid…make sure that he was okay, and find out if there was any place that the teen could go where he'd be settled and safe. A part of his mind kept telling him that it didn't matter, the kid didn't matter…but that wasn't fair, and he couldn't bring himself to just leave the boy in the lurch.

After four days, though, he'd felt his hope dwindle and his depression return full force. In his mind, he was certain the kid was dead, or dying, and there was no way he was going to find him. He returned to the store to buy some more liquor and drown in his sorrows.

There were messages on his answering machine from his father, from more well-wishers, and from Mike Franks. He glared at the device in annoyance, and eventually just pulled it from the wall. "Fuck all of this."

He crawled into a bottle, and he didn't know how long it was before he crawled back out of it again.

* * *

><p>Danny hated living on the streets. He'd gotten away with dealing with too much crap when he managed to slip in the theatre at night. Then his shift was rearranged, and he no longer had the night duty. He couldn't slip in unnoticed to sleep in the office until the morning, and without the Gibbs' home…he didn't know where he was going to go.<p>

During the day he managed to keep busy, and he found a few places he could stash clothes and the like to make sure that he was able to at least appear to be presentable. He cleaned himself in public washrooms, and he worked as much as he could. He wasn't doing too badly during the day. It was at night when everything went to hell.

Winter's chill would bite into him, and he'd shiver violently and do whatever he could to find somewhere that was out of sight from the world around him. Homeless shelters would turn him away time and again because he didn't have any benefits or information as to who he was. He tried explaining to them that he just didn't have the paperwork, but as one snotty woman put it: "How do we even know you're an American citizen? We don't want any illegals here." He'd had nothing to say to that, and so he'd gone to the next place, and then the next.

Eventually, the cold got to be too much for him, and he stubbornly wrangled up as much money as he could…everything he'd been saving…and he bought himself a new pair of shoes, a jacket, and a room at a local hostel. It was worse then some of the shelters he'd been turned down from.

There were people everywhere, and the room he shared with wasn't so much a room as it was a cesspool. He found that while he was away from the cold, it didn't mean much…he was exhausted and yet he didn't dare fall asleep.

All around him, people were fornicating and shooting up. The ground was covered with class and needles and he was in constant fear that someone would steal what few belongings he did have. Despite paying for a place in those precious living conditions…Danny did whatever he could to avoid the place as much as possible.

The result was that he was unbelievably strung out, and he was heading for a crash and burn he knew he wouldn't be able to control. And it was during this time, that the Mexicans found him. He'd been sitting in a daze, when one of the drug runners from the neighborhood had stopped by to collect something from one of his roommates.

At first, Danny had been so exhausted he hadn't recognized him, but that had changed the moment that someone mentioned "Shit, isn't that the kid from the park?" And with that in mind, Danny turned and took off running as fast as he possibly could. It was a miracle he'd made it to the door, and from there…somehow he'd made it into an alley.

He'd never been so happy for a dumpster in his life, but he crawled in it just as those pricks from the boarding house had started their chase. Shivering from cold, sick with hunger, and burnt out from countless days without sleeping, Danny could at least say he was alive…something that might not be a factor in the days to come. The Mexicans had picked up on his trail, and now he didn't even have any money to get the hell out of DC before one of them picked him off. Cursing himself for being such an idiot, he tried to keep warm through another horrible night where sleep evaded him, and his body was pushed just that extra step closer to oblivion.

* * *

><p>Gibbs had known that eventually someone would get pissed off enough to come and see him. He hadn't expected it to be Mike Franks, though. The man had been standing in his living room for the past ten minutes shouting about <em>something <em>and Gibbs was still trying to figure out why exactly he was even dealing with Franks and his self-righteous attitude.

"….with you?" There was a question in there somewhere, but Gibbs could only stare blankly up at the man in honest confusion. He had no idea what he was being asked, but the look on his face made it clear that Franks thought that he was probably the biggest waste of space on the planet Earth. "You just gonna live in the bottle for the rest of your damn life? Huh? Not give a shit about anyone around you for as long as you live? Why don't you just put a bullet in your brain and get it over with if you're so eager to stop living?"

"I would, but the damn kid stole my gun." Gibbs snapped back, irritation at being belittled finally rearing its ugly head. Mike's eyes narrowed at the soldier in pure frustration, and he took a step forwards.

"What kid?" He hissed in utter disgust, and Gibbs blinked.

"Danny…" Franks' hands snapped out and grabbed Gibbs' arms.

"Where is he? When did you last see him? Damn-it Gunny, do you know how much time you've wasted?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I told you _weeks _ago, that there was a kid that was missing from the accident, who was with Shannon and Kelly in that car. I _told _you that we suspected he'd been kidnapped. I _told _you we were trying to find him, and you've known where he was the whole time?" Gibbs stared at Franks for a long while, mind racing at the words. He was struggling to get passed the numbness his brain kept insisting it wanted to maintain. He struggled to look into his memories from the earlier days…and then he did remember.

He remembered how Danny had looked up at the door when Mike had knocked, and then had bolted only moments before Gibbs had let the man in. he remembered how Danny had stayed scare for days after that. How the kid hadn't said a damned thing about anything.

"Danny…Danny's the kid you were looking for?" He felt like he was playing catch up and he pressed a hand to his head to ward off the feeling of nausea that was starting to course through him.

"Who the hell did you think we were looking for? Bugs Bunny?"

"No…I…we never met before. This was the first time…and he never said…he _knew _Shannon and Kelly?" That one thought kept rocket firing in his brain. All he could see was Danny lying on Kelly's bed, and now his mind supplied one final thought that he hadn't counted before. The kid had been crying _before _Gibbs had hauled him out of bed and thrown him down the stairs. "He _knew _them?"

"Jesus Gunny, you let kids in your house and near your guns and you don't know jack about them?"

"Haven't exactly been thinking straight, _Mike_." Gibbs snapped back, fury coating his tone.

"Yeah. I can see that. Where is he, when'd you last see him?"

"Last week or so…"

"Or so." Franks' voice was irritated, annoyed, and more than a little pissed off, but Gibbs didn't know what to say about any of that. Right now he was still struggling to get over the fact that he'd just obstructed his own family's murder investigation by telling off a kid who just wanted a place to sleep.

"We got into a fight…he left." Gibbs mumbled.

"Any idea of where he'd _go?_"

"I looked for him all last week…"

"Well, I guess we're going to be looking _harder_, aren't we?"

"We?" Gibbs blinked stupidly.

"Yeah, if I leave you behind, you might just end up shacking up with all the other missing witnesses there are out there. Get in the car." Mike glowered, and he turned on his heel and stomped back towards the door. Gibbs stared after him for a long while, before he felt his resolve set firm in his stomach and he hurried after the man.

* * *

><p>Danny was shivering violently as the rain pelted his skin. He coughed, struggling to breathe through the crackle in his lungs. He'd gotten sick sometime the night before, and the chill in the air hadn't helped in the least. He felt his head grow heavier and heavier, but he couldn't put it down.<p>

Somehow he just knew that closing his eyes and falling asleep, like this, would lead to his death. He had been running for so long now, that he wasn't certain if he could keep going. His feet ached terribly, and he tried to push back the numbness in his mind as snow started to drift down upon him.

He'd finally found a homeless shelter that would take him, but if the hostel had been bad…this place had been worse. They hadn't bothered to even argue with him about ID. They just opened their doors and led him to a room that could have been a gymnasium in another life. Now it was covered head to toe with bodies that were all lying down and slumped in various states of consciousness. The past few days in the homeless shelter had taught him many things he hadn't cared to know before. First and foremost, if you're going to survive out here, you might as well go all in. His body ached from the countless fights he'd gotten into, and he was sure he'd gotten infected with something in the last one.

The respite from the gang that had been following hadn't lasted long, though. When he'd seen the Mexican men that were hanging around the shelter, that looked just a little too out of place, he hadn't thought twice about turning and running in the opposite direction. They'd followed him for three miles, and he'd only lost hem after he'd managed to stuff himself into a drainage pipe. He'd nearly frozen to death there, but he managed to keep moving and keep heading out.

He could just see Empire Theatre up ahead, and his heart thundered in his chest. He knew he could climb up the fire escape and into the top floor of the building. From there, he could stuff himself under the desk in the reel room and go to sleep – try to forget about the horrible week he'd had and move on from there.

Stumbling forwards, Danny's head spun dizzily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He couldn't remember the last time anything had gone the way it was supposed to. With shaking hands he pulled down the ladder for the fire escape and he slowly fumbled his way up it. The window was locked when he reached it, but he had worked out how to jimmy the lock and within a few moments it was open.

Shaking uncontrollably, he settled himself into the office, and felt tears start to poke into his eyes. Off in the corner of the room, he could see the office phone. He wondered what would happen if he made the call he'd been avoiding for so long. He wondered if anything was going to be fixed. Shivering badly, he shook his head.

He'd rather die than go home. He'd rather die than return to that hell. Forcing himself to stand up straight, he started to walk to the window to close it, and that's when everything went to hell.

A man appeared there, and he jumped back in fight even as he was crawling through.

Turning, Danny bolted towards the door, but it was thrust open at the exact same time. Danny's numb fingers reached for the gun he'd stolen from Gibbs almost two weeks ago. He never had a chance to grab it. The man behind him caught him around the torso and threw him to the ground. Kicking and thrashing he tried to move, but he wasn't successful. A rough grip on his hair lifted his face up and then smashed it back down into the unforgiving tile of the office floor. Everything blurred together for a moment, and Danny lay there in a daze for a long while. His vision was swimming, his attention was failing, and he couldn't bring himself to connect the dots of what was happening.

"Should'a stayed out of it, gringo." One of the men hissed, his mind happily supplied him with the memory of Pedro Hernandez blowing the brains out of that two-bit drug dealer in the park. A little girl's delightful call of _Mommy! _Was cut off by the sound of a gun firing, and even though Danny was certain that none of this was real- he still flinched away from the noise. Reality snapped back into focus and he struggled twice as hard as he had before.

"Get off of me." He hissed, kicking and clawing, but it just earned him another strike to the head that left his body feeling heavy and sluggish. He simply didn't have the strength to fight back any longer.

"You jus' had to disappear. But you went with the nice lady an' the kid, didn't you?"

"Get off me…"

"You gonna die gringo…hope it was worth it." He was rolled over and a boot collided with his stomach. He gasped out in pain, even as he felt the ribs crack under the weight of the man's foot. The putrid smell of gas started to fill his senses and he stared up as a third man arrived.

"Whole place just needs a match." The man said, and Danny felt his heart hammer in his chest.

"Not gonna…get away…" He murmured, even as he was shoved under one of the desks and one of the assailants kicked at him again and again. He felt his consciousness slip away and pain flooded his mind.

The next thing that happened startled him, because he wasn't even aware he'd passed out. The entire room was filled with smoke and the door and far wall were alight with fire. Everything was burning, the ceiling was starting to catch; the floor was blistering hot.

Panic coursed through him, and he scrambled. There was fire all around him, it caught on his pants and jacket and he gasped as he ran. Tripping over his own feet he felt his cheek collide with the windowsill. Terror invaded him and he struggled to stand up.

Pulling himself out of the window, he collapsed on the fire escape. Throwing off his jacket and slapping at his burning jeans, he barely noticed that there was someone shooting at him until it was too late. A new kind of pain slammed through his arm and he shouted out as he curled to his side and looked around him. The three assailants from earlier were just beneath him, having left the burning building before he'd even woken up. They were all more than happy to become reacquainted with him, however, and they were shooting up at him. Bullets were glancing off of the fire escape, ricocheting in every direction.

"Just go away…" He whispered, tears coming to his eyes as he struggled to move his battered body. "Leave me alone…just leave me alone…" His feet wouldn't give him any purchase and he collapsed, curling up in a ball even as he heard foot steps on the ladders coming closer and closer.

"You're going back in there, gringo, and you gonna stay there. You gonna die tonight – boy." Filthy breath washed over his face and he shivered and shook violently.

"Go away…just go away…" He mumbled as his strength began to fail him completely.

"Not happening." The man reached down to grab his hair, and he felt himself get lifted up. Danny stared into the man's face, even as he was starting to be hoisted back towards the burning building behind him. They were taking this slow. They wanted him to die with no claims or explanation. They couldn't kill him with their guns or it could all be brought back to Hernandez. If he died in a fire…there wasn't proof – just a lot of motive. Circumstantial evidence didn't hold up in court.

But Danny didn't want to go back to the burning pain of that building, he didn't want to die, and he definitely didn't want to suffer any longer at the hands of these pigs. His fingers fumbled with the gun that was still in his possession. He'd never fired one before, but he'd seen a lot of movies, and he was reasonable certain he knew what he was doing. His assailant barely had a chance to realize what was happening, before he fired off three shots directly into his chest.

* * *

><p>"A movie theatre?" Mike asked looking towards Gibbs skeptically. The soldier just nodded. He hadn't explained the fight to Mike, and Mike hadn't asked.<p>

"He said he worked at one, and that he stayed there before he decided to break into my house." Gibbs muttered.

"Shit, no wonder we never found anything on this kid."

"You don't know anything about him?" That surprised Gibbs more than he cared to admit. He'd thought that at least Franks knew something about this brat.

"Wouldn't tell us shit. Didn't give a last name, didn't agree to anything. Shannon," Mike glanced towards Gibbs who stiffened at the name, "she vouched for him. Said she'd known him for months and that he was a good kid."

Gibbs didn't know what to say to that. He'd never heard of the boy before, and he certainly would have remembered if they'd met. Shannon hadn't said anything about him, and he wasn't sure what to think about all of this.

"Apparently he was with Shannon and Kelly that day in the park. He and Shannon both got a good look at Hernandez. When that bastard realized he had witnesses, he started going after them. Shannon said the kid grabbed Kelly and her and started running down the street. He saved their lives that day, Gunny." Gibbs' guilt only intensified at hearing the news, and he felt his heart plummet to his chest. The kid had saved Shannon and Kelly…only to have them die a few days later when they were on their way to a safe house. And to reward the kid for his efforts, Gibbs had tossed him down a damn staircase.

The newest theatre on their list was coming up ahead, and he leaned closer to the window in case they saw anything. What he did see, though, startled him more than he cared to admit. The entire bottom floor of the theatre was on fire, and standing at the bottom of the fire escape were two men with pistols – shooting up into the night. He followed their aim to their target and could just make out a flash of dirty blonde hair in the midst of the billowing smoke and fire.

"Shit, Mike- Danny's up there!" Gibbs shouted. He tore the seatbelt from his waist and threw the door open. The car barely had had time to stop, but Gibbs didn't care, he stumbled from the car and once he caught his balance he threw himself into the nearest gunman. Behind him he could here Mike getting out of his car and another gun started firing into the night.

Up on the fire escape Danny's legs had given out as he collapsed to the ground. The man he'd shot slumped forwards onto him, and blood was dripping onto his face. He stared at the man in horror, and he struggled to get out from under the man. His body was aching in pain and he couldn't find the strength to push the man away from him. He could hear gunfire in the distance, and he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands to his ears. "Go away…go away…" Exhaustion was coursing though him and he felt his mind starting to slip from around him. He was tired of running and fighting and dealing with these people and he didn't want to be there anymore. He just wished everything would just-

"Danny." It was the voice more than anything else that caught his attention, but the feeling of someone so close to him made him jump back in fear. Smoke was billowing out of the window and surrounding everything in sight. He coughed against it, and struggled with the gun in his hands. Someone touched his wrists gently though, and kept his aim faced in the other direction. "Danny…Danny it's Gibbs. Look at me, kid. Come on." The teen shook his head and coughed badly, and suddenly was being drawn up to his feet.

His legs were shaking too badly to steady his weight, and he felt an arm go around his chest and hold him upright. His body howled in pain and he let out a sharp gasp. "Sorry, just hang on. We need to get down, okay?" Consciousness blurred around the edges, and time skipped again.

Somehow, and he _really _didn't know how, Danny found himself sitting on the cool concrete ground. Gibbs was crouched in front of him in a T-Shirt, looking cold in this weather. It was only then that Danny realized that he was wearing what almost certainly was Gibbs' coat.

Tears were still slipping down Danny's face, and he felt everything of the past few weeks slam down into him. "Gibbs?" He whispered fearfully, wondering if the man was going to try to go after him too.

"I'm right here, kid, and I'm sorry…so sorry."

"Sign of weakness." Danny murmured softly.

"And I was weak." Gibbs replied, pulling the kid's head to his chest. "Shit, kid…I've been weak a lot lately."

"Those…guys…"

"Mike's got them." Gibbs replied.

"Mike?" Danny tried to remember the name, but his mind was too numb at the moment.

"NIS Agent, you know him…don't you?" Danny nodded shakily and Gibbs held him closer. "Shit…kid, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"Sorry…"

"Damn it, kid. You have nothing to apologize for, Danny."

"I don't feel good." The teen murmured, and Gibbs pulled away somewhat so he could look at him closer. Bruises littered the teen's face, and blood soaked his right arm. His jeans were torn and burnt around his knee, and he was leaning awkwardly to one side.

"I'm gonna take you to the hospital, okay? Then you're coming home."

"Home?" Fear tinged the kid's voice at the word, but Gibbs shook his head and squeezed his shoulder.

"With me." He stated firmly.

"With you?" Blinking slowly up at the man, Danny looked stunned at the offer. "I…I was in her room…"

"I over reacted, son." The word slipped from Gibbs' lips, and Danny stared at him in stunned amazement. Then, slowly, his mouth quirked upwards, and he felt his eyes close. Slumping to the side Gibbs barely had time to catch him, and his ears barely picked up the softly spoken:

"Okay…" before the boy was out like a light.

"Mike!" Gibbs shouted the Agent's name even as he turned to find the man. The three Mexican gang-bangers were getting looked after – the man Danny had shot was spread out on the ground while the other two were in cuffs. Franks was talking rapidly on a radio, but at Gibbs' call, he turned to see what was going on.

"Take my keys, get him to the hospital." Mike snapped as he tossed the keys towards the Gunnery Sergeant. "I'll meet you there when I'm done with these idiots." Nodding sharply, Gibbs lifted the boy upright and carried him towards the car.

Danny was unconscious for the whole of the trip, and for the first time since Shannon and Kelly died, Gibbs was praying not for them, but for this teenager who deserved it more than any other.

Gibbs came to a screeching halt in front of the hospital, and he carried the teen inside with adrenaline pouring through him. He didn't care that his leg hurt, nor did he even notice it at this point. The nurses and doctors hurried to help him with the teen. His shirt was removed, and Gibbs watched in dumb horror as they revealed knife wounds, countless bruises, cuts and bruises, all off set by the bloody gore that was Danny's right arm. The teen was a mess, and Gibbs couldn't help but feel more than a little responsible.

He stood silently, watching them whisk the teen into the ICU, and he was left to wait for news. Collapsing into a chair, he struggled to answer the information on the paperwork that was presented before him. He didn't know the answer to any of these questions, and he didn't know what to say. If he said he wasn't the kid's father, though, he knew he'd never hear how the boy was. So he tried to stick to what he thought was accurate.

When the police showed up to figure out just how the kid got so banged up, Mike appeared at the same time. The man quickly sent the local LEOs packing, and then he looked down at Gibbs with a slightly annoyed expression.

"You get anything from the scum bags, Mike?" Gibbs asked softly, and Mike nodded his head.

"A whole lot of crap, that's what. By the way, you should keep a better hold on this gun of yours." The man passed the pistol to Gibbs who immediately hid it from view. It didn't stop a Nurse from looking towards them disapprovingly, and Mike all but growled towards her. "What?" He snapped, and she quickly looked away. "How's the kid?"

"Don't know…they're not back yet." Gibbs sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Kid's taken some hard knocks, but he'll be fine." Franks shrugged easily and sat beside the soldier. "Heard what you promised Danny. You really gonna take him in after this?"

"Yeah…"

"Sure that's such a good idea? We still can't find anything on him. No one in the area has any idea where the kid's from, no one's seen him before, and no one's claimed him missing."

"He said that no one was looking for him."

"You figure an orphan or something?"

"I don't know, but I do know that if no one else is looking out for him…I will."

"Why? He's not your responsibility."

"Yeah…yeah he is." Mike just nodded his head, and the two men sat in silence as they waited for anyone who would tell them about the kid.

Their answers came sooner than they thought it would. The doctor who came to see them was a young man with blond hair and thick glasses. "Danny's going to be okay." The man started without preamble. The most concerning injury he had was the bullet wound in his arm. It broke his humorous, and there's been some muscle damage, but with some rest and rehabilitation he should be able to use it at full capacity again. We've treated him for smoke inhalation and dressed the burns on his arm and leg. For now, we'll have to watch the bruises on his chest, but they don't seem to be life threatening. He broke several ribs, but they've been wrapped and he'll need to take it easy to make sure he doesn't stress them during the healing process. Other than that, he should be okay."

"Can we see him?" Gibbs asked quickly.

"Yes. He's resting now, but you can sit with him if you'd like." Nodding sharply, the two men hurried down the hall to where Danny was sleeping off the effects of quite a few drugs.

"He's going to need to answer a lot of questions soon, Gunny." Mike told Gibbs evenly as the soldier stood over the sleeping kid.

"Yeah…I know." He murmured in reply. "For right now though…I think the kid needs a break." Mike just grunted.

"Probably does." He muttered. "I have suspects to intimidate."

"Don't you mean interrogate?"

"Same difference." The grizzled man replied as he stalked out the door. Gibbs found himself laugh slightly, and he sank into the chair across from Danny's bed. He had every intention to spend the night, and make sure that when the kid woke up, he'd know that he wasn't alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Windstar: **Thank you so much for your kind words, the response to this fanfiction has ben wonderful. This story is almost done, one chapter left. I hope you have enjoyed the ride thus far, and look forwards to hearing more of your feedback.

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter.

**Chapter: ****Homecoming**

Danny slept for the rest of the night and half of the next day. When he did wake up though, Gibbs was right there to make sure he was okay. The teen looked stunned at the treatment, but he accepted help sitting up, and he listened quietly as a doctor came in and explained everything that he already knew. His arm was busted for now, and his body still ached terribly, but he wasn't going to die any time soon. He'd even been given drugs for the cold he'd been getting before he'd been beaten half to death.

When the doctor was gone though, Danny turned and looked to Gibbs with a pensive expression, and the man knew he had to say something. "Mike told me you were with Shannon and Kelly…" He said softly. Danny nodded his head, and shifted on the bed. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"It never came up." The kid replied.

"I asked you why you were at my house dozens of times…"

"I wasn't there because I was in the car with them that day." The words were carefully chosen, and Gibbs found himself sighing in frustration. The kid was a master at deflection and getting around whatever it was that he wanted to say. He wondered who had taught him that. It certainly wasn't anyone that Gibbs was fond of at the moment. When they finally tracked down the kid's family, he was going to have a long-winded conversation with the kid's father. That is…if he ever got a chance to meet the man.

"Why were you at my house, Danny?" Gibbs asked softly.

"I don't know…" Danny replied. He looked away, and Gibbs sighed in frustration. Danny was probably telling the truth. The kid didn't even seem to know what he was doing with his life, let alone why he was doing what he was doing. "I'd been there before…when you were in Iraq. Shannon and Kelly were always in the park, and I used to sit out there when I was studying. Shannon was really good at math, and Kelly liked playing tag. Whenever Shannon wanted to take a break from running around, she'd volunteer my help to go and run around with Kelly, and in return she'd help me with school."

"I thought you said that you didn't go."

"I don't. I'm…I'm trying to get my GED. At least…I was…I haven't studied in a while." Danny looked awkwardly to the side, and Gibbs felt his spirits drop even lower. "Sometimes it'd get late and Shannon would offer to make me dinner before I went home. When it got real late, she'd offer to drive, but I always said not to bother. After a while, Shannon asked me where I lived, and I used to make up all kinds of things. That I was staying with my mother while my dad was fighting in Iraq…etc…Kelly was excited about that, and she started to talk to me about you all the time. I think she just wanted someone to talk to about you, I don't think Maddie really understood why you were never around." Hearing Kelly's best friend's name coming out of Danny's mouth was surreal, and Gibbs wondered just how involved the kid had been with his family while he'd been away. "We were at the park again the day of the shooting. I was with Kelly, and Shannon was reading something, when we heard people shouting. Kelly didn't seem to realize something was wrong and started to call to Shannon, and that's when everything went wrong. Hernandez started shooting at some guy, and people started running. Shannon and I both saw the whole thing, and had taken off with Kelly by the time he started to look around him for witnesses." Danny stopped, eyes locked on the ground, his face pale and his expression bleak. "We just ran and we didn't stop. There was a mall nearby, and we went inside, and I had Kelly and we ran into one of the dressing rooms, and for nearly two hours we just stayed inside and waited until the adrenaline faded."

Gibbs could almost see it perfectly. Kelly crying and not understanding, pressed against Danny's chest as he tried to calm her down. Shannon would be there, pacing back and forth trying to figure out what to do. Then she would sit beside the kids and try to make certain that they were all fine.

"When the cops came, Shannon and I got called in as witnesses, and we told them what happened. NIS showed up, because of you, and were reading to take them into protective custody. Shannon kept asking me where my parents were and trying to figure out how I was going home. She kept telling everyone that my dad was in the marines, and that I needed to go too."

"Your dad's not in the marines."

"No. He's not." Danny sighed heavily, and ran his good hand through his hair. "He's probably getting drunk somewhere far away and doesn't give a shit about where I am or what's going on."

"Mike said he doesn't even know your last name."

"I never told them. I just…I couldn't. I don't want to go back, and that's what they'll do." Gibbs nodded at that, and Danny went on. "Shannon insisted that I should go with them, and eventually they gave in."

"What happened after that?"

"We got in the car…Shannon sat on the right, and I was on the left, and Kelly was between us. We started heading out, and Kelly's rabbit…it fell off her lap and I went to grab it. When I ducked, the bullet that was supposed to take me out hit the driver's head. The car snapped to the right…" Danny's eyes shut and he dropped his head into his hand. His immobilized arm looked rigid against his body as he crumbled. "The car went over the rail and into the river…I unbuckled my seatbelt and tried to get to Kelly…I…" The teen's breath was coming in short gasps and his heart monitor started to increase rapidly.

"Hey, hey look at me." Gibbs moved closer, and he touched the teen's shoulder.

"I tried to get them out…" Danny whispered, looking up at Gibbs miserably. "I tried to get them out, but when I did…they weren't breathing and I couldn't get them to wake up, and then the bullets-"

"Bullets?" That was news to the soldier, and his grip tightened on Danny's shoulder.

"They shot at me. I didn't know where they were, but they kept shooting, and I left. I was scared, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't save them…I'm so sorry." Gibbs reached out and pulled the kid close to his chest, Danny's good hand reached around and gripped his shirt tightly and the soldier just held him there.

He tried to imagine what it must have been like, thinking you were going to your safety only to be immediately pulled in the wrong direction. He tried to imagine what it must have felt like to be in a car while it was filling with water and be unable to get to the people you cared about, as they were dead or dying beside him. Then, when you finally get out, someone you couldn't even see attacks you once more.

The kid was barely old enough to vote, and yet he was put into a position where his decisions meant life or death for everyone involved. "It wasn't your fault Danny. None of this was your fault."

"I should have saved them, I could have-"

"No, you couldn't have. You did everything you could have done. It's not your fault, Danny. All right? Look at me, kid." Danny's green eyes met his blue ones, and he took the boy's chin in hand. "You did everything you could. It's not your fault." Danny nodded hazily, and Gibbs continued. "I'm sorry I hurt you, back at the house. I never should have put my hands on you."

"I deserved it." Danny dismissed easily.

"No, you really didn't." Gibbs denied easily. "You were trying to cope too, and instead of realizing that you were hurting as well…I tossed you down a staircase." Of all the injuries that Danny had, only one was faded enough to not have happened at the hands of those gang-bangers or their accomplices. It was healed to the point of near disappearing, but Gibbs could see it clear as day. On Danny's forehead was a cut that would have been made from a sharp collision…and Gibbs knew that it had happened when the kid had fallen down the stairs. Danny shifted uncomfortably.

"It's fine." He said simply. "I've had worse." He smiled this time, and Gibbs nodded, though without any amusement. Danny may have had worse, but that didn't make any of it right.

"I want you to come back with me…you can stay at the house as long as you want. I'll set up a bed for you…somewhere."

"Why are you doing this?" Danny asked softly, looking more sullen and withdrawn than Gibbs had ever seen him, and the man found that he had an easy answer to that:

"Because you lost them too." Danny stared at him for a long while, knowing that there was a lot that the man didn't say. Still, in the end…it didn't seem to matter. The teen nodded his head and decided to have faith in the man, after all…where else was he going to go? "Danny…I need to ask you something, though."

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you take the gun, Danny?" The teen was quiet for a long while, but Gibbs gave him that time. Looking off in the distance, the boy looked more somber than before, and the sight tugged at the soldier's heartstrings.

"It was cold…and I couldn't find anywhere to sleep…" Danny murmured softly. "I didn't want to bother you anymore, so…so I climbed into Kelly's room." Gibbs waited, knowing that there was so much more here. "You…I thought you…I thought you were going to kill yourself…and I didn't…I didn't want you to."

"So you took the gun?"

"I didn't want you to die too…" Thinking back on that night, Gibbs wondered what it must have been like for the teenager. He could see the kid now, curled up on Kelly's bed as he listened to the house being torn apart. When Gibbs finally had brought himself into the bedroom, he wondered if Danny knew what was happening. Did he know that Gibbs fully intended to blow his brains out? How terrifying must it have been for that kid, to sit still and listen through the night in hopes that he wouldn't hear that deafening bang of defeat? "Sorry I took it."

"It saved your life." Gibbs waved it off. Running up to that scene, watching as that bastard had grabbed at Danny – fully intending to push him into the fire and keep him there until he died…Gibbs had known he'd never get there in time. If Danny hadn't had that pistol, he'd be dead right now. Maybe Kelly and Shannon really had intervened that night. It was a nice thought, at the very least. "Danny…you're going to have to tell me about your parents at some point…"

"Not now." Gibbs just nodded.

"Not now." The man agreed. "Get some sleep, alright?" The teen nodded and leaned back, closing his eyes, he had the oddest urge to reach out and grab at Gibbs, just to make sure he was still there. "I'm not leaving." It made him smile, and he nodded faintly, before feeling the tension leave him, and sleep claim him.

* * *

><p>Danny was able to leave the hospital after spending the night there. Gibbs drove him back to the house in companiable silence. The teen was nauseous on the drugs, and he tended to get very loopy the stronger the medication was. He slept through most of it, but Gibbs suspected that when he could he'd stop taking the medications.<p>

When they arrived at the house, the soldier quickly started setting up a bed for the teen. Gibbs couldn't quite feel comfortable setting him up in Kelly's room, and Danny had flat out refused the bedroom. "Just…no." Gibbs almost teased him for the childishness of not wanting to sleep on a bed where he had slept with his wife in, but then he realized it wasn't that at all. Danny had walked into that room fully expecting to see Gibbs' brains blown out on the ground and his body slumped over in rigor mortis. That had to be enough to shock anyone out of ever wanting to step foot into a room again.

So now the only room that was left, was an old office that was filled with paperwork and bills. Mike had grudgingly agreed to help come over with a new mattress and box spring that was tossed on the floor. Gibbs couldn't carry it by himself, and Danny wasn't going to be able to help in the slightest. So Mike glowered at them both, but helped anyway.

Mike had been more than happy to do it, though, when Danny agreed to sit down and go over exactly what had happened in the accident. The whole sordid affair was gone over and over, again and again, until the teen looked ready to either throw up or run away. When it was all over, though, Mike had clapped the kid on the shoulder and told him he'd done a good job.

"That guy…the one I shot…"

"He's dead." Mike told him shortly, and Danny flinched at that. "Self defense, kid. No one's pressing charges."

"Oh. Okay." The teen looked down at his lap, and was left alone to gather his thoughts. In his mind, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he kept seeing the man towering over him, lost in smoke and face turning monstrous through the recollection. Then, blood would coat him and the face of the monster would die and he'd know he'd done that, but instead of satisfaction, he felt shaken, lost, even more confused and even worse than ever before.

Moving to sit beside Gibbs on the couch, Danny mulled over his thoughts for a long while. Apparently Gibbs was actually a pretty good cook when he put his mind to it. Danny was amazed when the man started to actually cook dinner and didn't destroy anything in the process. The man had called him a brat and to just get over it. As Danny sat eating it, though, he couldn't help but think over other things, and so he looked towards the soldier curiously. "Gibbs?"

"Hmm?"

"You ever kill anyone?" He asked softly. The man frowned at him, but nodded.

"Yeah…yeah I have."

"Do you…remember it?"

"Every one." Danny nodded and started to poke at his food. "Trick is…you gotta know the reason."

"Reason?"

"Yeah, if you had a reason to kill them, it makes it easier. You had a reason, Danny. That man would have killed you. He beat you, and he would have kept at it. He deserved to die."

"I can't forget him." Danny mumbled awkwardly.

"That's okay. It'll pass…it'll take a while, but things will fade."

"Why did you kill?"

"To defend my country."

"And now? Are you going to go back?"

"No…that part of my life is over." Gibbs stated firmly. The kid bit his lip and poked his food some more. "There's only one person that I would kill now."

"Hernandez." Tony didn't ask, he knew. Gibbs didn't reply. He just sat still, the look of hatred on his face making it perfectly clear that he wanted to kill the man that ruined his family so completely.

"You kill to defend yourself and your loved ones, Danny. That's what you do." He stated firmly. "That's what you do."

The next day, Gibbs woke up early. Danny was still sleeping soundly in his new room, and the soldier took the time to pull up a blanket that had fallen off sometime in the night to the boy's chin. Making his way downstairs, Gibbs sighed heavily and tried to figure out just what exactly it was he was doing these days.

After everything that had happened lately, he'd been slowly pulling his head around. He started noticing things that he hadn't before. There were bills that needed to be paid, and grievances that needed to be settled. Some things were too close to the chest to deal with right now, he certainly had no intentions of going over to talk to Maddie's parents any time soon. If they ever came around again, he knew he'd behave a bit more appropriately, but as for right now…he just couldn't deal with that.

What he could deal with, though, was the rising stack of mail that he hadn't so much as glanced at lately. Settling down, Gibbs started to open the letters, sort the files, and he fought against the rising sense of sadness that burst through him each time he opened a letter for "Shannon Gibbs."

The worst one was when Kelly's report card arrived in the mail. He hadn't been able to hold it for longer then a few moments. He put it down, and took several deep breaths. He forced himself to try to think about anything else. The urge to leave the house became too overwhelming, though. Writing a brief note to Danny, he got dressed and headed out to the store.

They needed food, and with Danny refusing to take the opiates he'd been given to help with the pain, their Advil supply had been running low. The sun was shining, and with each step he took, Gibbs felt a bit stronger. His leg wasn't hurting as much, his posture was better, and while he wasn't at one hundred percent…he was getting there. He was getting there.

Only a few steps away from the store he heard a little girl start laughing and her mother start talking happily. He turned his head to look towards them, and he was blinded by a memory. Kelly and Shannon laughing together and talking about what they'd get. He turned on a dime and began to make his way to a smaller outlet.

On the way, he found his feet pulling up to a halt in front of a military supply store that he'd frequented on occasion in the past. He had all the weapons he'd ever need, but the frightened and nervous face of his young houseguest the night before had made him pause for thought.

Taking a deep breath, and entering the only establishment he had no memories of Shannon and Kelly in, he started to walk about the store. He knew better then to buy the kid a gun, and quite frankly he wasn't too certain he wanted to see the kid hold a gun ever again. Something smaller, and more practical that would put the kid at ease was all he was looking for.

He found what he wanted easily enough. It was a compact knife with a sharpened blade. It could be used for hunting, but was just short enough to be held on your person legally. Taking the knife in hand, Gibbs's eyes travelled over the Marine Corps symbol that was embedded into the handle. Then…his eyes caught the words engraved on the blade. "Semper Fi."

Moving up to the register he paid for the knife without even a second thought. He knew right now things were a little tense and awkward at the house, but the blade (he hoped) would at least give the kid something to hold on to. Gibbs was a mess, and he was in no way fit to take care of a kid…but if the teen could hold through a bit longer maybe this would all work out.

Making his way back to the store, Gibbs took a deep breath and entered. He had a lot he still needed to deal with, but this was a start.

Gibbs returned home and found Danny sitting at the table with a kind of forlorn expression on his face. "You okay?" The soldier asked, and the teen glanced up at him.

"Yeah." He replied with a one shouldered shrug. "Need help?" He asked, motioning towards the bags that Gibbs had brought in with him.

"If you're offering." The soldier stated easily, and the teen nodded. They worked together in silence, and Gibbs arranged the loads so the kid would open the back with the knife in it. It took Danny a bit longer than Gibbs thought it would for him to find the blade, and when he did, the kid frowned heavily.

"Where do you want this?" The kid asked, holding it up be weapon between his thumb and forefinger looking more curious than anything else. He seemed almost amused by the purchase, and Gibbs couldn't help but smile slightly at the look on the teen's face.

"Keep it." He said simply. Confusion crossed the kid's features, and he looked at the knife more closely. There was a button that released the blade from where it was collapsed, and he looked at it in amazement.

"It's beautiful." He said softly.

"It's more than beautiful." Gibbs rolled his eyes. "If anything happens, you'll have a pretty sturdy knife that'll look after you from now on."

"Wait, you meant it? It's mine?" The kid asked, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

"Yeah, of course I meant it." Gibbs muttered, continuing to put the groceries away.

"But…why?"

"Why do you think?"

"I have no idea, that's why I'm asking."

"Figure it out, Danny." Gibbs told him, shaking his head. "It's not too hard." A dark blush was crossing the teen's face at this, and it was clear that he was more than a little uncertain about how to accept the gift. He fingered it lightly, though, and Gibbs knew that the kid honestly liked the gift despite all the belly-aching he was doing. "When's your test?" He asked suddenly, and the teen looked up from the knife to frown at him.

"What test?"

"The GED." Gibbs explained evenly.

"Oh…I don't know…a month or two?" The kid shrugged and looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment.

"You still have any of your books?"

"Kept them at the theatre…" Danny muttered, wincing as he recalled the fire, and the fight, and then the blood of the man he'd killed. Gibbs just nodded his head. That'd be the next thing that they'd need to get.

Shannon's whole reason for interacting with this kid had been because of his educational pursuits, and Gibbs was going to be dammed if the kid didn't get that degree he'd been working so hard for.

"You know…when you go to take your GED, you're going to need to put your real name on the form." Danny looked away from him then, and Gibbs sighed. He hadn't meant to be crass right now, but at the same time, the kid needed to get his head on straight about this one. Whatever reservations he had about his family, he needed to move past it if he was going to continue on with life.

"Danny…really does come from Daniel." The kid said at long last. "My parents…their names were Anthony and Daniela. They decided early on that if I was going to be a girl, it'd be Antonia Daniela…but I'm a boy so…"

"Anthony." Gibbs murmured softly, and the kid nodded.

"Yeah. My dad, he just called me Junior. Mom…she called me Danny. When she died….I don't know…I guess…I guess I just missed being called that." Gibbs nodded his head.

"Your last name?"

"DiNozzo." Danny murmured. "It's Anthony Daniel DiNozzo." Gibbs took a step closer and slowly wrapped his arms around the teen's shoulders. He made sure he wasn't pressing down on the kid's injuries, and just held the kid for a moment.

"It's nice to meet you Anthony."

"It's…nice to meet you too, Leroy." Gibbs could almost hear the smile in the kid's voice, and he stepped back – ruffling the teen's hair.

"You…wanna watch a movie?" He asked curiously, and the kid looked like it was Christmas all over again.

"Really?"

"Yeah…really. You pick." Gibbs motioned towards the TV, and the kid laughed.

"Gibbs…you don't have any worthwhile movies in the house. Lets go out-" The teen's smile froze on his face. "Unless…you don't want to…"

"It's fine." Gibbs replied, shaking his head. "Lets get going." Smiling brightly, Gibbs watched as the teen closed up the knife as though it were a precious relic, and placed it comfortably in his pocket. "But we have to stop somewhere first." The man said, halting the kid in his tracks as he started towards the door. Glancing towards the man, he frowned.

"Where?"

"Danny…Anthony…." Gibbs fumbled, uncertain about how to call the kid.

"Danny." The boy insisted.

"Danny." He agreed. "You need new clothes, something that actually fits you halfway decently and is going to keep you warm."

"I don't have the money-"

"I'll pay." Gibbs said easily.

"What, are you made out of cash these days? You're putting a lot down lately…"

"What else am I going to spend it on?" He asked, and the kid shrugged.

"I don't know, figuring out how you're going to get the boat out of your basement?" Danny suggested brightly.

"If you stick around long enough, I'll show you." Gibbs replied.

For the rest of the day, Gibbs and Danny relaxed and had fun. Gibbs didn't particularly care what they were doing, as long as it kept his mind off of Shannon and Kelly, and Danny didn't feel like being reminded of them either. So the pair stayed on relatively neutral topics and they did a very fine job of avoiding anything that might trigger a memory of the hell that had been the past few months.

The movies that Danny rented from the local store, and the one that was plaing in theatres that week were all things that Gibbs had never even heard of, but the kid chatted through them so much that the soldier found himself more amused by the experience then anything else. The kid loved the films, but he couldn't stop talking about how much he loved them. He did impersonations of all of the actors and actresses, and Gibbs found that the teen had a rather good eye for detail and memory. He would quote whole films verbatim and Gibbs found that more entertaining than the movie itself.

When they got home, Danny was sore and aching, but still trying to run a million miles an hour, so the soldier forced him to sit on the couch and got dinner started. He hunted for any books that he could give the kid to read, and found several classics that were under his bed. He didn't remember seeing them before, but forced himself to not think about the fact that they were probably Shannon's. Walking down the stairs he handed them to the kid, who thumbed through the pages with mild interest.

"Never really liked reading." The boy stated simply.

"Why not? It's like a movie without sound"

"I like the sound." Danny muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

"I'm sure you do. You talk a lot."

"It's a defense mechanism." The kid told him sweetly, and Gibbs raised his brows at that. "School psychologist, age…twelve. Apparently they make diagnoses like that back then. Who knew?"

"What are you defending against?" Gibbs asked.

"Who knows?" The boy shrugged, and they dropped the topic from there.

* * *

><p>Life soon fell into a comfortable and easy pattern. They'd work together on the house, taking it one room at a time, one day at a time. Packing away Kelly and Shannon's things was unbearably difficult, but they worked side by side and got it done. Gibbs found that if he could distract himself from the task by focusing on something else…like making sure that Danny was actually resting and not overworking his battered body, it made things go easier. While they worked, Gibbs would quiz Danny on various things he remembered from high school, and the boy would reply or ask his own questions as needed.<p>

When things got too difficult, or they felt like they needed a break, they would do something else. Danny would put a movie in the player; Gibbs would read one of the books he didn't realize that he owned. In a way it helped ease the pain in his heart. It felt like he was connecting with Shannon on a deeper level. At the same time, the agony in his chest for missing her only grew. He wished he'd discovered these books earlier…maybe they could have talked about them.

And whenever he started thinking about that, Danny would be there. He'd ask him about the guns, about his time as a soldier. He'd talk about the knife, the marines, the movies that he loved…anything and everything. Danny just talked and Gibbs forced himself to listen, forced himself to sit there and actually _be _there with the kid instead of disappearing down a dark endless tunnel of despair.

There was only thing that could make any of this better, though, and even as he looked at Danny and knew that he was significantly better off with someone there with him, instead of being left by himself through all of this, he also knew that it wouldn't be enough. He craved only one thing…and he knew that until that was achieved nothing would be able to settle completely.

He went through the motions, helping change the office into a proper bedroom for Danny. They organized everything, started to clear off the desk so that he could have books and some personal belongings here and there. After seeing the kid's exuberance for the show, Gibbs had even gone out and gotten a Magnum PI poster to hang above the teen's bed.

In the evenings, after they'd watched movies and eaten dinner and relaxed as much as possible upstairs, Gibbs brought the teen down to the boat and they worked together on making it something to be proud of. Danny had never worked on a boat before, worked on anything before (really), and so Gibbs showed him everything. He showed him how to sand properly, how to touch the wood, and he showed the kid the plans on what it was eventually going to turn into.

Gibbs glanced down at the spot where Danny used to sleep, and wondered if there was a reason the teen felt so at ease there, but any time he felt the urge to ask, he was stopped. He couldn't bring himself to do it. So it remained a mystery to him as they worked side by side. It wasn't a mystery that he particularly card bout, though, mainly for the fact that he was perfectly content simply working in silence.

In the evenings, Danny would go upstairs to sleep, he'd curl up under the blankets and toss and turn most nights. Gibbs could hear him upstairs, sometimes he'd have a nightmare, and often he wouldn't sleep through the night. Every once and a while, Gibbs would go and would check on him.

It was only when the nightmares got really bad, when he was calling out and kicking so violently that Gibbs was certain he'd do damage to his already battered body. During those nights, Gibbs would be reminded that he wasn't the only one with demons, and that there was someone else who needed him to be strong, needed him to carry through.

During those nights, Gibbs would sit beside Danny as he fought to get rid of the nightmare in his mind. More than Gibbs liked, and well more than Danny would ever admit, the kid would shoot up – calling for someone. Sometimes Danny called for his mom, and those nights were the best out of everything. Other times though, he'd cry out for Shannon…for someone to help Kelly…and those nights damn near killed Gibbs. The worst though, worse than the guilt that came whenever Danny called for Shannon or Kelly…the worst was when the kid would be so trapped in his nightmares that when he was finally roused from consciousness he'd latch onto Gibbs and the man would be frozen in the teens arms – trapped as the boy called out for his father.

He'd beg his father not to go, to please stay with him, to not send him away. He'd beg the man to stay here, to not leave him. On those nights, Danny wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He'd be trapped in his mind, and he'd stay there until he eventually went back to sleep. So Gibbs had to force himself to hold the teen, talk to him through the night terror…and tell him over and over again that he wasn't going anywhere, that he wasn't going to leave, and that he was staying with him.

But on those nights, after Danny would finally go to sleep, still believing he was talking to his father and not to some random Gunner Sergeant that he was now living with, Gibbs would feel the ache in his chest and the burn in his heart for vengeance and hatred and guilt and turmoil. Kelly would never call him 'dad' again, and here this kid was…using it so freely. And Gibbs would spend the rest of the night trying to keep his temper in check and fight to not crawl back into the bottle he'd been escaping from.

The morning after those nights had ended, Danny would be quiet and Gibbs would be moody. During the day, they didn't do anything around the house that would remind them of Shannon and Kelly…on those days they just worked on the boat. Sometimes when Danny would remember, he'd apologize softly. He'd never say what it was for or why he was saying it, but it'd be the only word spoken throughout the day. Gibbs wouldn't reply, but it would be out there…floating and present no matter what.

When the day faded, Danny would pull himself back up the stairs, and Gibbs would say the only other thing that was ever said during those days: "sleep well, kid." Danny would nod his head, and Gibbs wouldn't hear anything else out of him. That didn't mean the kid slept through the night, though. It just meant that he stayed awake…forcing the nightmares to remain hidden.


	5. Chapter 5

**Windstar: **This is the last installment to this story. Thank you so much for your reviews, I truly appreciate your kind words. It's extraordinarily motivating, and very welcoming into this fandom. I'm quite certain that no one is going to be completely satisfied with the ending of this story, however it does leave room for a sequel. I haven't written one, and probably won't for a while, but it is something I'm playing with at the moment. I hope that you enjoy this for what it is, and thank you once more.

**Disclaimer: **Please see the first chapter.

**Chapter 5**

It was another week before Mike Franks called over and asked for them to come into the NIS offices. Danny's arm was still in a cast, but the bruises had faded a great deal. He was able to walk longer and with far less assistance, and he was a bit more confident in his stride. Gibbs was just tired of the whole process and everything that was involved with it. He only wanted to hear three words: we got him.

What he got instead were nine words:

"He's in Mexico, and they won't extradite a national."

Danny hung his head, stuffed his one good hand into his pocket and said that he needed to get some air. Gibbs barely noticed the kid leave. Anger was plowing through him. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to kill the fucking _bastard _who had murdered his wife and child, who had sent his goons after a fucking kid who hadn't done anything wrong. He wanted to put this bastard six feet under and send him straight to hell.

"You know where he is." Gibbs accused darkly, and Mike met his eyes.

"I gotta take a piss." He said simply, and then he turned and walked purposefully out of the room. "Think I'll find the kid on my way back." Gibbs clenched his hands into tight fists. He wanted to murder someone, something. He wanted to just bring hell fire down upon the world. He glared down at Mike's desk…and that's when he saw it.

Pedro Hernandez's photo looked right back up at him, and next to it was a location…Gibbs stared at it and committed it to memory. Fine. The government wouldn't have to get involved. They wouldn't be able to settle the furry that was within him anyway. There was only one thing that could possibly do that…and he had the rifle at home to do it with.

By the time Mike returned with Danny, Gibbs had everything planned in his head. He knew exactly how this was all going to go down, and by the way that Mike was looking at him, he knew that the man condoned his actions. He wondered briefly if Mike would agree to look after Danny for a little bit while he was gone.

Now that he considered it, though, Danny was more than capable of taking care of himself for a few days. The kid was resilient, and he didn't need to have someone hanging over him and dictating what was going to happen every step of the way. Gibbs knew that it was going to be fine.

"We're leaving kid." Gibbs said simply, looking at the teen. The boy nodded his head dully, still not looking too pleased with the way things had turned out. Gibbs couldn't blame him. After everything that had happened this was just one more blow.

Well it would end here. No more of this bull shit. Hernandez was going to die, and that was going to be the end of all of this. No more fear, no more terror, and no more agonizing guilt of letting he bastard get away. He was going to get his revenge, and that bastard was going to go to hell.

Gibbs waited until they were back home, before he made his way to his bedroom and told the kid what was going to happen. "You're going to need to stay on your own for a little while. I need to go to Mexico."

"You're going _where_?" Danny's voice was incredulous. He couldn't believe the words coming out of Gibbs' mouth. He couldn't believe anything that had happened lately. Everything was going…_wrong_, and this was the top of the list.

"Mexico." Gibbs stated.

"Mexico. You're going to Mexico." Danny glared at him, but Gibbs wasn't paying attention. He was grabbing his camos, his rifle, his binoculars, everything. He had a buddy nearby who'd fly him across the border on the sly. It would be all he needed. "Why the hell are you going to Mexico?"

"Why do you think, Danny?"

"You can't just march in there and kill the guy…" Danny muttered, crossing his arms awkwardly over his chest.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because what if _he's _got a wife and kids?" Danny hissed.

"He should have thought about that before drug running in America then."

"Gibbs…" The Gunnery Sergeant whipped around and flew towards where Danny was standing. The teen flinched at the movement and looked ready to bolt if the man came at him too much faster. Keeping himself in check, however, the marine took a deep breath and slowly raised his hands to take hold of the teen.

"I can't just let him go free. He murdered Shannon and Kelly…he sent his goons after you. I can't let this go unavenged." Turning around, the man went back to doing what he was doing before hand.

"Please don't leave."

"I'm going to Mexico Danny, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Gibbs…_please_ don't go. I'm begging you-"

"You're begging me? Kid I just met you a couple months ago. That was my family that was killed, and you think that you begging me is going to change my mind on this one?" The teen paled considerably at the words and he shook his head. "That's the guy who murdered them, who tried to murder you. That's the guy who had his goons go after you. You really want him alive? You really want him to go after you? You really want that? Huh?"

"No…no of course not…"

"I'm leaving." Gibbs said, zipping up his duffel and starting to reach for the phone.

"Can I go with you?" Danny asked hopefully.

"No. I can't worry about you while I'm out there."

"Don't leave me here." Danny whispered, and Gibbs felt a wave of frustration course through him.

"You're fucking nineteen years old, Danny. What the hell do you want, a babysitter? Want me to call Mike and have him hold your hand? You could always go back to wherever it was you were staying before you moved in, but hey…I figured you liked having a bed to call your own." The teen's face lost all traces of blood, and Gibbs almost felt bad about what he'd said. Taking a few steps back, the boy looked completely tragic, and Gibbs sighed in frustration. "I'm only going to be gone a few days…and then I won't leave again. I'm done with the Marines, I'm going to find a new job…I'll help you get that degree of yours okay?"

"When are you leaving?" Danny whispered softly.

"I just have to make a few calls." Nodding his head, the kid turned and walked back down the hall and into his room. He closed the door behind him, and Gibbs heard the resounding click of a lock. Standing in his room, and feeling more like a bastard than he had in a long while, Gibbs just took a deep breath and focused on Hernandez and how good it was going to feel when he put a bullet through the bastard's brain.

He couldn't deal with Danny and his abandonment issues right now. He couldn't deal with whatever emotional crisis the kid had going on. Right now, all he wanted was death and blood and vengeance. So he packed his belongings, picked up the phone and started to dial.

His buddy was more than happy to help him out. He memorized the airfield's location and his time of departure. He still had another seven hours to go, and with nothing left to do, he knew he needed to settle down and start to let go of all the emotion of the kill. He needed to be an emotionless bastard because feelings were just going to make him rush the shot.

He needed accuracy. Walking down the hall, he almost went passed the kid's door and to the stairs. He hesitated just long enough to tell him that he was going to work on the boat before he left. It was an open-ended invitation, and half an hour later, he wasn't surprised when the teen joined him.

Neither spoke. Neither said a word. They just sanded and nailed and made sure everything was beautiful. They worked long and hard and as hours passed, Gibbs felt his focus settle. He felt ready for this. He was thrumming with excitement. He wanted to get this over with, but he was ready to wait as long as it took in order to get this all settled and done properly.

"You gonna stay here?" He asked Danny after four hours had ticked by.

"Yeah." The kid murmured. He glanced towards him with a look of fear, but Gibbs just shook his head.

"Don't burn the place down." He meant it as a joke, but from the way the kid looked sick, the sniper realized just how badly timed that joke was after everything that had happened. "Kidding." He muttered. "I'll leave you some money for food, you can order out every night if you want, or just cook for yourself."

"Okay."

"I'm going to come back."

"Okay." Silence descended upon them once more, and Gibbs didn't know what to say. So he said nothing at all. The hours ticked by, and finally it was time to leave. Gibbs collected his things and was ready to walk out the door, when Danny was there, awkwardly standing nearby. He didn't know whether to hug the marine or simply shake hands, but it was clear he wanted to do something. "Please don't go."

"Kid…"

"Please, please." Tears were starting to form in the kid's eyes, and Gibbs almost lost his resolve. Then the faces of his family burst before his eyes and nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter. The kid moved closer, reaching out with his good hand and taking hold of Gibbs' arm. "Please don't leave me alone. I'll do anything, _anything_. I won't call you dad anymore, I'm sorry, I know it bothers you, I won't! I won't! Please…please don't leave me all alone!" The kid was crying hard now, but Gibbs couldn't deal with that. Not now.

"I'm going to come back. It's only going to be for a few days." Danny shook his head.

"Something bad's going to happen."

"Nothing bad's going to happen. I'm going to be a hundred yards away out of sight and sound. He's never going to see me coming."

"_Please_ don't do this."

"I'm leaving, Danny. Right now."

"_Please_." Danny whispered, but the man was already shaking his head.

Gibbs reached out and pulled him in for a hug. "I'm going to come back. I'm going to come back soon. Just wait a bit, okay? Then I'm never going to leave again." He could feel Danny starting to pull away, but Gibbs held him closer. "Keep that knife with you…you're going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen. When I come back…everything's going to be fine."

"You have to come back."

"I will."

"I'll never forgive you if you don't come back."

"Okay. I promise." Danny nodded. He took a step back, and though his face was still stained with tears, he stepped farther away. Gibbs took hold of his equipment and took one last look at the kid. The boy threw off a damn near perfect salute with his arms in the best state they could be for the honorific.

"Kill that bastard, Gibbs." Danny said shortly, and the Gunnery Sergeant nodded his head.

"I got him in my sights, kid. Keep that knife on you…nothing's going to happen while I'm gone."

Still holding the salute, Danny murmured a soft "Semper Fi," and Gibbs returned it, even as he turned and walked out the door.

Even as Danny stood there, he knew that it would be the last time he'd ever see Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs ever again.

* * *

><p>As it was, only one hour after Gibbs had left, the front door opened casually and without resistance, and Danny was turning with and speaking before he saw who was there. "You came back?" His voice was light, but the words were filled with the hope that he'd tried to hide. He didn't care if he was called out on this later, right now, he just wanted some reassurance that he wasn't going to be left alone again. <em>Stupid! <em>

Whoever it was that was at the door, was walking slowly towards his voice, and his heart started to pound in his chest. He started to second guess the whole leaving the door unlocked for when Gibbs came back thing. Turning slowly, he tried to stave off his fears as he went to face whoever had entered. "Gibbs?" He asked softly, his hand sliding into his pocket for the knife that he'd been given. The blade felt cool in his hand, and he flicked it open.

If it really was the Marine, then at the worst they'd have a laugh about how silly he looked later. He was almost certain that Gibbs would be proud that he was ready to defend himself if need be. Footsteps drew near, and Danny's heart pounded relentlessly in his chest. "Gibbs?" His voice was a terrified whisper now, and he glanced worriedly towards his few escape routes. He wondered if he could shut himself up in the basement and hide under the boat.

For a moment, his mind conjured up the image of the three men from the alley. His wrists burned and his chest ached in remembrance of their touch – cruel and humiliating as they beat him half to death. The choking sensation that had torn at his throat tingled mercilessly in his memory. Their cold words, promising a reprisal of their actions, echoed in his head. Panic coursed through him as he tried to remind himself that he could still breathe, and that he wasn't being choked in reality.

Clutching the Marine's knife in his palm, his eyes couldn't help to be drawn to the engraved lettering. _Semper Fi _– Always loyal. "Not now." Danny's inner voice whispered darkly in his head. "Not now…" He took a frightened step backwards, just as the footsteps came up to the doorway to the kitchen.

His heart pounded violently loud, and he felt his body tense so hard that he felt he might just snap in half. Then, a man made himself visible before him. He froze. He recognized the man before him, but unlike the loving way Gibbs had finally relented in allowing him to call him 'dad,' this was so much more real…so much more permanent.

Danny stared up at the very similar features of the man who had given half of his biology to him. His mouth went dry, even as his hand dropped to his side. The knife in his grip burned hotly, but he couldn't feel that. Instead, he felt remarkably dizzy. "Dad?" He whispered softly.

"Junior, it's been so long." The kid looked up at him with wide eyes, like he didn't know if he should run to be held or if he should run to escape. He wasn't sure if he should stay or go, and it kept going from there. His emotions were running in circles and it was killing him the longer he pondered.

"Dad…how did you find me?" He asked softly, the knife was shaking in his hand and he stared at the man with a mix of awe and trepidation.

"Son…I've been looking for you for nearly a year, ever since you left school and never came home." The words were gentle, kind. Danny's heart filled with hope that he never had before.

"You looked for me?" The words came out with so much hope and confusion that the teenager winced slightly. He hadn't meant to be so obvious.

"Of course, son." He kept using that word, even as he started to move closer. The man's hands were stretched out in an attempt to seem non-threatening. He was acting like he was approaching a skittish colt and not his child, but Danny didn't seem to notice. Instead, he was enraptured by the man's presence. "I'd like you come home, Junior."

"Home?" The boy repeated dumbly.

"Yes, home…New York…don't you want to come home?" The boy stared up at him in confusion, and his fingers felt numb on the knife in his hand. His father saw it and showed his distaste instantly. "Put the knife away, Anthony." The name came off sounding more Italian then anything else, the 'h' slipped away under the accent, and it made Danny start somewhat. The knife fell from his fingers, and imbedded itself into the hard wood floor beside his foot. He didn't even glance at it.

"I…"

"Junior? Isn't that what you wanted? To come home?"

"Yes, but...I…"

"But what? You'd rather stay here?" The man waved his hand around them in disgust. Danny couldn't bring himself to react. "I hired a private investigator to find you, he informed me that the owner of this…house…is a drunkard and a fiend."

"He's not a fiend…he's definitely got a drinking problem, but he's going through a rough patch right now…"

"Junior, is this really what you want? To spend the rest of your life in a run down theater and living with a drunk who leaves you on a revenge binge when you're just fresh from the hospital." The words shot straight to the boy's soul and he looked down at the ground.

The bruises that littered his body, his broken wrist tinged painfully. A part of him screamed that this wasn't right – he hadn't been ditched the day after he'd been released. It had been two weeks…but he still wore his cast and he was nowhere near perfect. All the consoling words that Gibbs had offered, insisting that he was going to be back soon and that it wasn't going to take long to finish up. The man had promised him a home, stability, a family. It was what Danny had always wanted, and now, faced with his father offering all the same things, drawing the light onto the darkness that was Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the façade faded. It wasn't a game anymore. He knew what he wanted.

"I…You really want me to come home?" He whispered, just to be sure. The man nodded and stepped forwards. He brought his hands closer and cupped his son's face.

"Junior…Anthony…_Tony_, come home. You've done enough here." The teen bit his lip, but nodded. Danny never had existed. It had only been to get attention. He finally got the attention of the person he really wanted it from, and whatever the reasons…it was better then a surrogate. Besides…Gibbs was so broken up right now, he doubted that even he could fix the man's copious problems.

"Why do you want me to come home?" He asked softly, needing to be certain.

"I realized what I lost without you, I'd like you back." Those were the right words to say, and instantly Danny, no, Tony nodded. He let his father lead him towards the door. It was only there, when he'd stepped from the house – did he see the two guards his father had brought with him.

He froze, his heart thundered in his chest. "Dad?" He whispered, hazy confusion poured over him. The two men charged forwards, each grabbing for his arms and he shouted in confusion, trying to pull away. He kicked out, but his attack missed and struck a nearby pot. He squirmed in fright, but before he could get enough of an angle on the men, something hard hit him across the face and he fell into a blissful state of unconscious.

* * *

><p>Three days later, when a Marine Gunnery Sergeant Sniper named Leroy Jethro Gibbs came home, his face still flushed from the euphoria that had poured upon him after that kill shot across the Mexican planes, he entered the house to find it dark and unoccupied. He found his knife, still stabbed into the wood. He found the beginnings of a dinner that was never started, and he found all of Danny's clothes and belongings in the boat in the basement. The makeshift bed that he'd made looked abysmal in this new light, and yet as Gibbs looked at it all, he felt his heart pound painfully in his chest.<p>

No matter what he truly thought, however, one thing was certain – the boy hadn't left on his own. Something had drawn him out from the house, and something had brought him to harm. The broken pot on the porch was enough evidence of that.

Gibbs felt his euphoria fade in an instant. Kelly's voice that had been playing on repeat since the first moment he'd heard of her and her mother's death was suddenly overlapped with Danny's pain filled sobbing. Both of them were crying, both of them were begging. _Please! Please Daddy, please don't leave me again!_

_Please, please. Gibbs, please don't leave me alone! I'll do anything, I won't call you dad anymore, I'm sorry, I know it bothers you, I won't! I won't! Please…please don't leave me all alone! _

Gibbs had gone in an attempt to gain revenge on the man who had destroyed his family…and in doing so he had left behind and lost the family he'd just begun. Danny had been young, hurting, and uncertain of himself…and Gibbs had left him and his insecurities. The boy had been taken from this place and he had let it happen. He'd left, and another part of his life had been taken away.

Picking up the knife, he glared at the engraved words. _Semper Fi. _Yeah…right. He grit his teeth and threw the knife into Danny's backpack. When he finally got the boat out of the basement, he'd make sure the kid had all of his things place neatly in it for storage.

As for right now…life really fucking sucked.


	6. Epilogue

**Windstar: **So...I never do this. Like, ever. But so many people were upset with the ending of the last chapter, and I have to admit...it probably wasn't the best ending in the world, that I felt motivated to write this down. I hope this makes up for the open endedness of the last chapter, and that you can forgive the next chapter despite being "officially complete" in chapter five. Thank you so much for your reviews and know that this one was entirely dedicated and motivated by your rather...enthusiastic comments.

Wishing you all the best, **Windstar. **

**Disclaimer: **Same as first chapter.

**Epilogue: **

_**Many Years Later: **_

It didn't hit him at first. Not when he'd finished running him down, put a gun in his face, and been prepared to fire. (Although, _shit _that had been awkward). It hadn't even hit him while he'd fidgeted endlessly at his desk. His partner had been at his side, and he really hadn't needed to run the man's ID, but for a moment he'd been certain there'd been some kind of mistake.

The fact that the man's driver's license claimed him to be a Johnny Castillo, while he was saying something different made them check anyway. Staring at the name that had flashed on his screen, he'd been brought back to a time he'd almost forgotten. But that was then, and this was now, and his partner was at his back, and that _man _was sitting across from him.

So he did what he always did when something concerned him and he wasn't sure how to approach. He deflected. He made jokes, and he pretended that it hadn't hit him yet.

That logic worked magnificently for the next week or two. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stayed away from Baltimore, and he made it a point to only talk to the man when he absolutely had to. Then came the betrayal of his partner, Danny Price, and almost exactly the moment after the fact, he'd turned and there he was. Gibbs. Once again, he'd been aiming his gun at the man, only now he didn't know what to do with it.

Truthfully, he was tired. He was well past tired, and he was ready to just call it quits on this whole cop thing. Maybe his father had been right – this was a dumb idea. How many departments did he need to go through in order to realize it wasn't going to work out? Apparently, three.

He couldn't betray Danny and tell the Baltimore PD that he was crooked. At the same time, he couldn't keep working for the man. So what else was left.

And that's when it hit him, _literally _hit him, when Gibbs smacked him upside the head at the NCIS headquarters only days later. _Don't waste good_. It was a rule, or something.

And then the man had walked off with a flippant comment that wouldn't have meant anything. "Boy, I have vision and the rest of the world wears bifocals." He'd recognized it of course, but it had been halfway through one of his fiancée,Wendy's, dinners that he remembered just wear he _really _remembered it from.

He'd been seventeen years old, and he'd gone to an old movie theatre on the side of town that was playing old films. With him had been a depressed and downtrodden marine. His arm was in a cast, and he'd been through the ringer only a few days before then. They'd gone out together to catch a film, and they'd gone to see _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid _in and watched the film. It was the first one they really saw together.

That startling revelation had him running to the bathroom and puking his guts out. Wendy was at his side in an instant – worrying about everything she could. Was he okay? Was it the food? Did he need anything?

He promptly assured her that, yes – he was fine. No, it wasn't the food. Yes, a glass of water would be nice. She'd gone off to do just that, and he was left on the floor of his bathroom reeling in shock.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It'd been a decade exactly. He'd just hit his twenty-seventh birthday, and he had gone a head and moved on with his life. For a single solitary moment, he considered calling NCIS and retracting his application that the man had very sneakily suggested that he filled out.

But then sanity caught up with him, curiosity and wonder filled him…and now he wanted to know what exactly the man was playing at. Surely he recognized him. Surely he had said that quote on purpose. Surely this was all some elaborate scheme of his. Whatever it was, Tony wasn't exactly sure, but he felt like he was being played…and he didn't know how to respond.

In a way, he'd been caught flatfooted. That whole experience had been something of a different universe, and now that he was here…he didn't know what to expect. So he did what any normal person would do. He woke up the next day, and he went to work.

He sat across from the man that he had known when he had been a child, and he did whatever he asked of him. He didn't say anything about the quote, the movie, that time before…and Gibbs didn't either. It was as if they were in a dance – only no one was leading, and they were both following. Tony didn't know if he liked it, but for a few weeks…it was quiet.

That was when they started talking on stakeouts and Tony realized that Gibbs really had gotten his act together. He wasn't as much of a bastard as he had been back then, and it was nice. He was still a bastard, anyone would agree to that…but he was softer than he had been before.

"So why're you getting divorced?" Tony asked while they were staring at a building that had to be the most boring structure in the Greater DC Area. They'd been waiting for a supposed criminal for the past five hours, but he was a no show and Tony was nothing if not easily bored.

"Didn't get along with my wife." Gibbs responded evenly. "Why're you getting married?"

"Cause I do." Tony winked, and Gibbs rolled his eyes, and it was comfortable and easy. Everything about this job had been easy so far. There hadn't been any awkward movements or stepping on each other's toes, and as long as they avoided that major issue that seemed to be festering between them…nothing went wrong. "Speaking of which…Wendy would like to meet you some time…"

"Your fiancée?" Gibbs clarified, glancing towards him evenly.

"Yeah."

"You guys find a place, yet?" Tony shook his head.

"Nah, still commuting from Baltimore. She's trying to settle things with her jobs and clients, and we're looking to buy a house. Actually, after work tomorrow we're checking out a place in Brookland."

"Nice neighborhood." Gibbs commented evenly.

"Yeah…not as pricy as Georgetown though." Tony agreed evenly.

"Brookland's not far from my place, come on by for dinner sometime." And just like that, the comfortable movements of their not-dance ended. Tony froze like he'd been doused with cold water. He turned his head to look towards Gibbs, eyes wide and face pale. He licked his lips somewhat. Gibbs didn't say anything, but stared straight back. The tension rose in the vehicle so tight that it was almost strangling. When the criminal they'd been waiting for walked in front of the car – Tony almost felt like weeping for relief.

Both agents burst from the car and chased the bastard down. Neither mentioned the moment in the car again, and when it was time to head back they did so without so much as a softly spoken goodbye.

The pair of them managed to avoid any conversation that led to that discussion for nearly a month, at which point Wendy had put her foot down and insist to meet the man that was taking up all of her fiancée's time. "So…Friday okay?" Tony had mumbled awkwardly, and Gibbs had merely shrugged.

"You need directions?"

"No. I got it." Case closed. Neither mentioned it again.

Dinner wasn't as bad as Tony had imagined it might be. Wendy was easy going enough to talk animatedly with Gibbs, and the man was patient enough to listen. They got along rather well, and Tony found himself relaxing into the whole experience. He ignored how the house remained essentially untouched, he made certain that he was never going to go near the basement, and he steadfastly kept his feet firmly in either the living room or the kitchen.

The night ended cordially, and Tony thanked the man for letting them come over. Gibbs just nodded his head, and the whole experience was put into that weird middle ground where Tony just wasn't sure what to do or say half the time.

Which was why he was left completely flatfooted only a month and a half after that when he'd had his first work related injury. A routine fact-checking mission that Gibbs had sent him on had turned into a hostage situation with Tony on his knees and his wrists tied behind his back. He grimaced badly at his raw wrists and he waited patiently for help. It came nearly an hour later when Gibbs had arrived and reminded him just how he became affiliated with NCIS. The marine in him was shining out strong, and the dead man beside him was clearly an indicator of Gibbs perfectly sound sniping skills.

Tony was too jazzed up on the whole experience to know what to say. "Wow…when you're good, you're good. That was a hell of a shot. How'd you do that? Hey, how'd you know he wasn't going to shoot me in the head – that barrel was awfully close to my head. I should call Wendy, did you call her? What would you have done if I'd have died-" Gibbs' hand slammed up on the back of his skull, and Tony blinked at him. Everything calmed and settled and his mind focused and he was left staring.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked sincerely.

"Yeah, boss…I'm good." The man nodded.

"Next time, cut the ropes, and handle it yourself. Don't depend on someone else." Tony frowned at that.

"Ah…didn't have a knife boss."

"Always have a knife, DiNozzo." The man told him, and he had a funny look on his face as he said that.

"Wait, is that another rule? Like, on your list?" It had been his nightmare trying to keep up with them all. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, DiNozzo. Like on the list. Like, number nine." The sarcasm was dripping from each word, and Tony couldn't help but grin at the annoyed tone. Sometimes it made it worthwhile just to mess with the man – anything to keep him from thinking about how close he came to making Wendy going to church for a completely different reason than marriage.

"Guess I'll have to get one, huh? What kind should I get?" Gibbs looked at him for a long while, before reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He passed it to Tony without so much as a second glance.

"Don't lose it, all right?" The man asked, before turning and walking away. Tony barely had time to catch sight of the oh-so-familiar handle that read _Semper Fi _before nausea overcame him, and he promptly threw up on the sidewalk.

The conversation couldn't wait any more after that, and after a quick call to Wendy – letting her know that he was going to be late – he drove over to Gibbs' house and he took a deep breath.

It really did look exactly the same as it had in the past. Only difference now was that it was clean on the inside. He guessed that that happened during ten years apart. Knocking on the door, he heard the man tell him it was open, and he walked inside. Gibbs glanced up at him, and Tony licked his lips and shifted nervously.

"We should talk…" He said softly, and Gibbs nodded.

"Yeah." The ex-soldier agreed evenly.

"Umm…"

"You old enough, now, for a bourbon?" That brought a smile to Tony's face and he nodded his head even as Gibbs went to get him a glass.

"Might drink too much." He said simply.

"I know a hangover recipe."

"Works good too."

"That it does." Silence overcame them, Gibbs handed him his glass and he sipped at it occasionally. Mainly, his gaze fell to the left and stayed there. It was like they were waiting for that leader again, and they just didn't know the steps to this pattern. Gibbs sighed eventually, and placed his own glass on the ground. "How've you been?" He asked, and Tony released the breath that he was holding.

"When'd you know it was me?" He asked in retaliation.

"When you put that gun in my face." Gibbs said simply.

"That fast?" Tony blinked in awe.

"You?" The younger agent shrugged sheepishly.

"On the phone with NCIS." He said quietly. "You looked familiar, but the name on your ID…and…well…" He sighed and took another sip. He hadn't been able to hide the smile that had come to his face when he'd heard that the man in front of him was a cop. When he looked up, Gibbs had been smiling too…and for a moment he'd just known that the other man had known. For a moment it didn't matter, the shock hadn't settled, and he'd just smiled at the man and that had been that. He'd joked about the name, enjoyed the easy smiles…and only realized in the months that followed – Gibbs had been oddly indulgent with him where he certainly hadn't been with anyone else.

On all the cases that they'd been on where Gibbs had to interact with law enforcement, he acted like a grizzly bear with some hikers. It was almost Tony's job now to act as a liaison between snarly Gibbs and the soon to be flustered cops. It was so different from that day in Baltimore, that Tony had wondered if it was special treatment…guess it was.

"Shit, Gibbs…" He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "What are we supposed to do?" He asked softly.

"What we've been doing. Our jobs." Gibbs told him simply.

"Did you hire me because of before?"

"No. I hired you because of what I said. I don't waste good."

"How'd you know I was good?"

"I looked into you."

"How far?"

"Far enough to know you were seventeen when you stayed here. That you ended up going to Rhode Island Military Academy and graduated with honors – landing yourself a full ride to Ohio State." Tony laughed slightly.

"When'd you know?"

"Two months after you left." A dark look crossed Tony's face at that, and he finished his drink.

"I didn't exactly leave."

"Figured that."

"It was my dad."

"Figured that out too after a bit."

"How?" Tony couldn't help but blinking up at him owlishly. The man sighed.

"You were in those periodicals for a while. You and your dad, after that he talked about you to the reports for a while – how you were joining the military school to support the country."

"Marketing." Tony muttered, and Gibbs didn't say anything, waiting for the young agent to say something. He did after a moment. "Apparently he was trying to get this deal with some guy who was real big on family and patriotism. I guess it worked out for the best. I graduated from high school officially, went to college…didn't have to fight with the GED stuff. Aced senior year though…first time for everything."

"Had a pretty good football career." Gibbs prompted, and Tony nodded, smile broadening on his face.

"Funny thing, always liked playing. Did great…up until my senior year. That hurt like hell…" his hand reached down unconsciously for his knee.

"Almost visited you after that." Tony blinked, confusion crossing his features.

"What?"

"Made it to quite a few of your games." He said simply. "Saw your leg get blown out…didn't think you had anyone to check in on you. Your dad didn't show…"

"Nah, he wouldn't have. You came to my games?"

"Yeah…"

"Well I visited your house." Tony stated firmly. Gibbs smiled wryly. "When I got free from my dad and his marketing bull shit, I swung up to the house…you got married." Tony bit his lip. "I didn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't have." They fell silent again for a while, and Tony ran a hand through his hair. Rubbing his eyes slightly, he looked up at Gibbs and took a deep breath.

"Hey…you know…since Danny turned out to be such a low life…well…think you wouldn't mind being my best man?" A dark blush crossed the young agent's face and he ran his hand through his hair even more awkwardly then he had before. He was embarrassed, and he didn't know what to do or say to put everything back in place.

Gibbs reached out and touched his shoulder. "I'd be honored, kid." Tony smiled brightly, and the man couldn't help the grin that formed on his face either. Standing up, he motioned towards the door. "I have a wedding present for you, by the way."

"Wedding's not for a few months, boss." Tony rejected easily, but Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Since when does that matter?" The younger agent just shrugged and followed the ex-marine as he brought him towards the door.

"We going out?" Gibbs nodded.

"Not far." He said easily.

In truth, it wasn't far. It _was _comfortable though. It was like they found that groove that had come so naturally at first. Gibbs was at the head, and he was two-steps behind. The night air was filled with comfort and he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He couldn't explain it, but whatever it was…this feeling was wonderful. He felt like he could fly and he felt free.

Gibbs drove him to the pier, and Tony had a slight idea of what this was all about when they got out of the car. Gibbs walked him down the docks, and he scanned the water for any sign of what he could imagine the present to be. His eyes saw it before they reached it, and he let out a breath of amazed surprise.

Gibbs motioned towards the completed boat that he barely recognized from the monstrosity that he used to live under when he stayed at that house all those years ago. Sitting upright, and completely finished with everything a man could ask for, Tony just stared at it. It wasn't the boat's entirety that stole his breath away, though. The name made his eyes start to prickle slightly.

_The Danny Boy_ read out in beautiful gold letters. He felt his heart pound heavily in his chest and he reached a shaking hand to touch the lettering. He felt something deep in side of him start to twist and turn. Looking back at Gibbs, he knew his expression must have been tragic. The man was completely stoic, however. He just shook his head and motioned to get on the boat.

Following the man's lead, he did get on. It rocked under his feet, and Tony walked the length of the boat. It was beautiful, every part of it. Gibbs motioned for him to go below deck, and he went to the small cabin, and once again his eyes fell on something he hadn't seen in nearly a decade. Everything else vanished, and all he could look at was a faded blue backpack that was laying out on the boat's only bed.

"That…that's…"

"Yours."

"You kept it?"

"What else was I going to do with it?"

"Throw it out?" He asked dumbly, but Gibbs lightly thwacked the back of his head for that.

"Congratulations on your wedding. Boat's yours." Danny felt his heart thump in his throat, and he swiped at his eyes when they started to traitorously leak somewhat.

"You can't be giving me the whole boat."

"She's got your name on it."

"Yeah, kind of a chick song, don't you think?" He got another slap for that, but he didn't really care. He sat back on the bed of the boat and held his backpack to his chest.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…yeah I am…" He took a deep breath and leaned against the boat. "How'd you get it out of your basement?"

"Told you you'd have to stick around to find that out."

"Not my fault that I left." Tony muttered, and Gibbs nodded.

"What happened that night?"

"Got surprised, coaxed outside, and grabbed." Tony replied evenly. "It wasn't your fault."

"Should have been there…"

"They were waiting for the moment when you left. If you'd gone to the grocery store without me the same thing would have happened. It's fine."

"Your room's still the same." Tony blinked.

"What?"

"Your room…in the office? It's still the same?"

"Come on, after ten years and _how _many wives, you still have that Magnum PI poster hanging in that room?" Gibbs gave him a glare for that, but Tony just grinned back at him. "Gonna have to see it sometime."

Nodding his head, Gibbs just sighed. "You sticking around?" Tony licked his lips awkwardly at the question, but then nodded.

"If you want me to stay."

"Always did."

"Not always."

"No…but I have since then."

"You gonna stick around this time?" Tony asked, voice slow and yet demanding. Gibbs met his eyes.

"That's the plan."

"You promise?" He asked again.

"As long as I can manage it. I promise." That was all he needed.

"Then I'm in, Boss…I'll stick around as long as you tell me to."

And he did.


End file.
